I've finished Eat, Pray, Love and lump of something emotional welled in my throat. I finished the book while sitting in the common area of the writing space and I refused to cry in front of complete strangers. I had just had a coughing fit moments early because of choking on my own spit. How would weeping look? They'd think me a mess.
How do I sum this all up?
What I think is the "wise me" says: "Put the book down. Live your life. The story's over. Liz has given you what she can. Now, go, live your life. God has given you clues. Go, follow them. Use them."
The "scared child me" whimpers and still looks down at the book, hoping for more magic - sort of like that gentle, warm, embracing and loving hug our moms gave us (or, at least, ought to have given us) before sending us out into the big, scary world. We, as children, could venture forth, knowing that, no matter where we go, we will always be loved and cared for.
The one last gift Liz gives is this: "The Zen Buddhists believe . . . an oak tree is brought into creation by two forces at the same time. Obviously, there is the acorn from which it all begins . . . But only a few recognize that there is another force operating here as well - the future tree itself . . ." p 329
"I think of everything I endured before getting here and wonder if it was me - I mean, this happy and balanced me, who is now dozing on the deck of this small Indonesian fishing boat - who pulled the other, younger, more confused and more struggling me forward during all those hard years. The younger me was the acorn full of potential, but it was the older me, the already existing oak, who was saying the whole time: 'YES - grow! Change! Evoke! Come out and meet me here, where I already exist in wholeness and maturity! I need you to grow into me!" p 329 - 330
What would we say to our younger selves if given the chance? What would our future selves, what DO our future selves say to us, if only we'd listen?
I figured out the feeling, the lump of something in my throat: the good-bye feeling, the end-of-an-adventure feeling. Whatever that feeling is when we've read a really good book, gotten to know and love the characters and then, say good-bye. We could go back and read it again, but we know, deep down, the sense of discovery, the sense of meeting and growing to love would never exist in the same way. We'd just be reading a history. So, we sadly say good-bye, wash back on to the shore of reality, our bodies still warm and humming from the adventurous embrace of the story, and we meet the day.
"Yet, what keeps me from dissolving right now into a complete fairy-tale shimmer is this solid truth, a truth which has veritably built my bones over the last few years - I was not rescued by a prince; I was the administrator of my own rescue"
So, God will send us guides, but he will never send us rescuers.
Be the administrator of your own rescue and I'll be the administrator of mine.
And, I'll meet you on the hill top where hallowed souls shine.
Scoffers will scoff. Non-believers will weep.
But, you and I, my friend, will take the heavenly leap.
And, if we shall fall, God will catch us and land us on the moon.
For we have shot for the stars and sang a great lover's tune.
Don't be afraid. God has given us wings.
Sing out your mighty song, for God gave us voices to sing.
Laugh and cry, crawl and scrape, but never weep in fear.
For dawn is coming, the lights are on and a loving God is near.
So, let's gather up and take a leap, a leap of hope and faith.
For a life lived so adventurously, is a life not gone to waste.
Thank you, Liz. I love you as much as an absolute, complete stranger can love another.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Monday, May 7, 2012
Day 62. April 6th, 2012 Friggin Spiritual Journey!
I've been doing this for four months now! Perhaps its time to put this down, to finish this and move on. Liz is on the final leg of he stay in Bali. She's reflecting on the last time she stayed there, years ago (her "week of solitude"). "I'm not talking because I'm on a friggin' spiritual journey, you nasty little punk - now go AWAY!" she blurted out at a relentless, talkative, "beach-smart" child. p 326.
Her pause for reflection has caused me to do so, as well. "Life's a journey, not a destination," Steven Tyler once said. Though I've changed (grown, hopefully) I haven't arrived anywhere. I've struggled through this last part of the book, the loving part, as I've struggled in my life, lately. It hasn't been painful, it's just been a difficult juggling act: the video shoot, the new job in a restaurant, writing (which has obviously lagged - evident in my lack of focus on this blog) and the relationship. Prayer and meditation has been lacking, too.
Liz seems so self aware. I used to think I was self aware, but I've realized that I still have little idea of what's going on. Liz's book has changed me, changed my outlook, been a catalyst to change in my life.
When Liz was on the island the first time, in the secluded place where she's now taking Felipe, she took herself through a cleansing meditation: "Show me everything that's causing you sorrow . . . show me your anger, now . . . show me your shame . . ." p 327. I've had to go through a similar process, in order to recover from drinking. She was able to forgive herself, and all that was troubling her, she welcomed into her heart until she was empty.
She realized her capacity for love, compassion, forgiveness and then realized God's infinite capacity for these things. "I saw that my heart was not even nearly full, not even after having taken in and tended to all those calamitous urchins of sorrow and anger and shame' my heart could easily have received and forgiven even more. It's love was infinite.
"I know then that this is how God loves us all and receives us all, and there is no such thing in this universe as hell, except maybe in out own terrified minds." p 328
Our own terrified minds . . . that's why we do the horrible things we do to each other, to frighten others into a state where we won't feel so scared. This kind of thinking, I think, exists on a personal, a national, and a global level. Perhaps, that's why some one invented the concept of "hell", to frighten those they wanted to control so they'll behave, get in line. We need order to feel ok.
"Just imagine! - what God, in all His eternal compassion, can forgive and accept."
As humans, our own fears keep us from compassion, forgiveness and acceptance. But, like her Guru said, "Fear - who cares?" So fear is a feeling we capitalize on in each other and ourselves. The only difference between me and the guy who did the thing I was too afraid to do is action . . . he did it! We both feel the fear, but he had the faith and he took the action. Fear is a theme that seems to be coming up a lot for me. Fear (or, at least, my awareness of it) is becoming prevalent. And, as I'm becoming more aware of my fear, I'm getting rather sick of it and its power over me.
Of course, I can't rid myself of it any more than I can rid myself of any other emotion. I will always feel it. I can't fight it. That will just make it worse. But, God can deal with it. As a matter of fact, I really think he should. Of course, that's contingent upon my willingness to let Him.
Procrastination: I've realized that "I don't want to" really means "I'm too scared to." Unless, we're talking about knitting, accounting or "prince alberts" (look it up) - those things I really, truly have no interest in doing.
What will happen if and/or when I get published? What do I do to perpetuate my fears tied up in that? My feelings of inadequacy, of being too old, too dumb, not talented enough, too slow, not creative or imaginative enough, not skilled enough . . . yet,
“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can't achieve it.” Jordan Belfort
"Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy." Dale Carnegie
Her pause for reflection has caused me to do so, as well. "Life's a journey, not a destination," Steven Tyler once said. Though I've changed (grown, hopefully) I haven't arrived anywhere. I've struggled through this last part of the book, the loving part, as I've struggled in my life, lately. It hasn't been painful, it's just been a difficult juggling act: the video shoot, the new job in a restaurant, writing (which has obviously lagged - evident in my lack of focus on this blog) and the relationship. Prayer and meditation has been lacking, too.
Liz seems so self aware. I used to think I was self aware, but I've realized that I still have little idea of what's going on. Liz's book has changed me, changed my outlook, been a catalyst to change in my life.
When Liz was on the island the first time, in the secluded place where she's now taking Felipe, she took herself through a cleansing meditation: "Show me everything that's causing you sorrow . . . show me your anger, now . . . show me your shame . . ." p 327. I've had to go through a similar process, in order to recover from drinking. She was able to forgive herself, and all that was troubling her, she welcomed into her heart until she was empty.
She realized her capacity for love, compassion, forgiveness and then realized God's infinite capacity for these things. "I saw that my heart was not even nearly full, not even after having taken in and tended to all those calamitous urchins of sorrow and anger and shame' my heart could easily have received and forgiven even more. It's love was infinite.
"I know then that this is how God loves us all and receives us all, and there is no such thing in this universe as hell, except maybe in out own terrified minds." p 328
Our own terrified minds . . . that's why we do the horrible things we do to each other, to frighten others into a state where we won't feel so scared. This kind of thinking, I think, exists on a personal, a national, and a global level. Perhaps, that's why some one invented the concept of "hell", to frighten those they wanted to control so they'll behave, get in line. We need order to feel ok.
"Just imagine! - what God, in all His eternal compassion, can forgive and accept."
As humans, our own fears keep us from compassion, forgiveness and acceptance. But, like her Guru said, "Fear - who cares?" So fear is a feeling we capitalize on in each other and ourselves. The only difference between me and the guy who did the thing I was too afraid to do is action . . . he did it! We both feel the fear, but he had the faith and he took the action. Fear is a theme that seems to be coming up a lot for me. Fear (or, at least, my awareness of it) is becoming prevalent. And, as I'm becoming more aware of my fear, I'm getting rather sick of it and its power over me.
Of course, I can't rid myself of it any more than I can rid myself of any other emotion. I will always feel it. I can't fight it. That will just make it worse. But, God can deal with it. As a matter of fact, I really think he should. Of course, that's contingent upon my willingness to let Him.
Procrastination: I've realized that "I don't want to" really means "I'm too scared to." Unless, we're talking about knitting, accounting or "prince alberts" (look it up) - those things I really, truly have no interest in doing.
What will happen if and/or when I get published? What do I do to perpetuate my fears tied up in that? My feelings of inadequacy, of being too old, too dumb, not talented enough, too slow, not creative or imaginative enough, not skilled enough . . . yet,
“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can't achieve it.” Jordan Belfort
"Inaction breeds doubt and fear. Action breeds confidence and courage. If you want to conquer fear, do not sit home and think about it. Go out and get busy." Dale Carnegie
"If you are distressed by
anything external, the pain is not due to the thing itself, but to your
estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment." Marcus Aurelius
"When a resolute young fellow
steps up to the great bully, the world, and takes him boldly by the
beard, he is often surprised to find it comes off in his hand, and that
it was only tied on to scare away the timid adventurers." Ralph Waldo Emerson
Day 61. April 4th, 2012 Games
Less than two weeks left in Bali and all the eating, the praying and the loving will be done . . . at least this record of it will be. I'm going to avoid getting too reflective right now. I'll reserve that for the final entry, which is coming soon.
Wayan finally bought a house, in what was an old twist of benign manipulation: a woman crawling out of abject poverty, wisdom from the patient, observant and tolerant Felipe, and "bull-shitting", she finally bought a house. It was a good lesson on living life on life's terms.
"What happens with westerners who live here for a long time" (says Felipe) "is that they usually end up falling into one of two camps. Half of them keep playing the tourist, saying, 'oh these lovely Balinese, so sweet, so gracious . . . and getting ripped-off like crazy. The other half get so frustrated with being ripped-off all the time they start to hate the Balinese. And, that's a shame, because you've lost all these wonderful friends." p 321
"I don't want to play games, Felipe," Liz says. He kisses her head and says, "Then you can't live in Bali, darling."
WE have to accept the way the world works, play by life's rules, I guess, if we want to survive, live life on life's terms. Sometimes, I get confused between my principals and self-righteousness. But, like Darwin said, "It's not the strongest who survive, nor the most intelligent, but the ones most adaptable to change." God's world is ever changing and, most of the time, I have no idea what's going on.
Wayan finally bought a house, in what was an old twist of benign manipulation: a woman crawling out of abject poverty, wisdom from the patient, observant and tolerant Felipe, and "bull-shitting", she finally bought a house. It was a good lesson on living life on life's terms.
"What happens with westerners who live here for a long time" (says Felipe) "is that they usually end up falling into one of two camps. Half of them keep playing the tourist, saying, 'oh these lovely Balinese, so sweet, so gracious . . . and getting ripped-off like crazy. The other half get so frustrated with being ripped-off all the time they start to hate the Balinese. And, that's a shame, because you've lost all these wonderful friends." p 321
"I don't want to play games, Felipe," Liz says. He kisses her head and says, "Then you can't live in Bali, darling."
WE have to accept the way the world works, play by life's rules, I guess, if we want to survive, live life on life's terms. Sometimes, I get confused between my principals and self-righteousness. But, like Darwin said, "It's not the strongest who survive, nor the most intelligent, but the ones most adaptable to change." God's world is ever changing and, most of the time, I have no idea what's going on.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Day 60. April 2nd, 2012 Unconditional Love
I read more today than usual because I was drawn into the saga of Wayan and her potential new home. It hasn't happened, yet.
Liz wrote more about Felipe, what kind of man he is. She wrote about his character and that she's falling in love with him (he's already fallen in love with her). I can't help but feel sorry for Liz's ex-husband . . . unless, he's a really good man, a strong man who's able to move on (though, by the sound of the painful fights resulting from the divorce, I feel doubtful). I feel bad for the guy who got dumped, only to have his ex-wife go on to live this beautiful life. Unless, of course, he found a way through truly loving her to be happy that Liz is living a joyful life, even though he still hurts a little.
An interesting thing about Felipe: "For some reason," he says. "I feel the same way about you that I felt about my kids when they were small - that it wasn't their job to love me, it was my job to love them. You can decide to feel however you want to, but I love you and I will always love you . . . even if we never see each other again, you already brought me back to life, and that's a lot." p 311
Felipe is a wise man. He seems to have learned how the world works. I feel, again, as if I'm at the beginning. Compared to Felipe, I'm just beginning to see how the world works. It's like I'm just beginning to be shown and he's already been shown. I'm just beginning to learn how to see, to learn, even if I don't like the lessons very much. So, it's my job to love my fiancee and not her job to love me back (especially in the way I think I should be loved - I should strike that notion from my mind).
I should ask myself: How generous am I with my love? Do I put conditions on it? Do I put conditions on my generosity? That's not very generous then is it? Do I rub her feet without any expectation of reciprocation (just an example)? Do I resent having to do it because I haven't gotten anything in return?
God asks me to be kind. loving and generous. As far as I know, he doesn't ask me to stop these things when I think I'm not getting what I deem the proper amount of love in return. I'm just realizing now that I don't know how to love unconditionally yet. Perhaps, that comes from the fact that I don't know how to love myself unconditionally, yet. I guess I have to learn how to accept myself, "warts and all", before I can learn to accept my fiancee, "warts and all".
Liz wrote more about Felipe, what kind of man he is. She wrote about his character and that she's falling in love with him (he's already fallen in love with her). I can't help but feel sorry for Liz's ex-husband . . . unless, he's a really good man, a strong man who's able to move on (though, by the sound of the painful fights resulting from the divorce, I feel doubtful). I feel bad for the guy who got dumped, only to have his ex-wife go on to live this beautiful life. Unless, of course, he found a way through truly loving her to be happy that Liz is living a joyful life, even though he still hurts a little.
An interesting thing about Felipe: "For some reason," he says. "I feel the same way about you that I felt about my kids when they were small - that it wasn't their job to love me, it was my job to love them. You can decide to feel however you want to, but I love you and I will always love you . . . even if we never see each other again, you already brought me back to life, and that's a lot." p 311
Felipe is a wise man. He seems to have learned how the world works. I feel, again, as if I'm at the beginning. Compared to Felipe, I'm just beginning to see how the world works. It's like I'm just beginning to be shown and he's already been shown. I'm just beginning to learn how to see, to learn, even if I don't like the lessons very much. So, it's my job to love my fiancee and not her job to love me back (especially in the way I think I should be loved - I should strike that notion from my mind).
I should ask myself: How generous am I with my love? Do I put conditions on it? Do I put conditions on my generosity? That's not very generous then is it? Do I rub her feet without any expectation of reciprocation (just an example)? Do I resent having to do it because I haven't gotten anything in return?
God asks me to be kind. loving and generous. As far as I know, he doesn't ask me to stop these things when I think I'm not getting what I deem the proper amount of love in return. I'm just realizing now that I don't know how to love unconditionally yet. Perhaps, that comes from the fact that I don't know how to love myself unconditionally, yet. I guess I have to learn how to accept myself, "warts and all", before I can learn to accept my fiancee, "warts and all".
Saturday, April 28, 2012
Day 59 March 30th, 2012 Yeah, This One Is About Sex
In Chapters 97 and 99 (98 was spent on a road trip with Yudhi), Liz finally has sex with Felipe . . . and more sex . . . "When we (she and Yudhi) return to Ubud, I got straight back to Felipe's house and don't leave his bedroom for approximately another month." p 294 "Never have I been so unpeeled, revealed, unfurled and hurled through the event of love-making."
Liz offers a key (or is it instruction) for men: ". . . if a man really touches you gently, caresses your skin, says loving things, kisses you all over your body, takes his time . . . sex can be nice." p 302
How many of us take our time? I guess this question is really for the dudes. How many of us worship our women's bodies the way Felipe worships Liz's? I know, you're probably thinking (like me) try doing that after a year or 10 years, even. Doctors and therapists would have an answer for this. I do not.
I've known how to be animalistic. I've known how to find the woman who wants to be taken and take her. I've learned how to touch and kiss and lick in all the right places and move in all the right ways for the sake of pleasure. Let me stop here and note that I have since begun to learn the difference between love and pleasure . . . or even happiness and pleasure. But, back when I was picking up women, they were usually drunk and horny already, so they were already willing. When a woman is ready and willing all a man has to do is listen to her body and learn how to have a little stamina and well, you're great in bed! However, I imagine the women's insecurities and vulnerabilities were quieted by alcohol. And, great sex is different than great love making. Also, a dude has to eventually consider the cost of continually being a stud in a stranger's bed. Out there in the fictional world created in the deluded male brain (seemingly driven by scientifically suggested animal instinct ingrained in our DNA) the "stud" is the ideal. "The Ladies Man"!
However, the compulsion to please a new woman every night, to somehow win or dominate or achieve the "stud of the year award" leaves you feeling empty. The best I ever felt was the same, never better about myself. I'll stop short of getting entirely too personal here and say this: Even deeper than that urge to sow our oats sits the basic need to be loved. And, random acts of sex has never been a substitute for love. Believe me, I've tried. Maybe other men can do it without guilt or conscience. But, in pursuit of a meaningful life, such actions always left me wanting.
Then, there's sharing with the one you love! Scary! I still feel like I'm clumsy at it. Do I do the things Liz writes about? Yes. I think. At least I've learned how to listen to a woman's body. Without going to into embarrassing detail (I've embarrassed myself enough I think), time and attention with one woman will teach you a lot about what she likes.
Do I have patience, though? Do I really take my time, or do I rush into things and hope she'll catch up? I suppose my fiancee and I could have that conversation that makes the little boy inside me blush and get squirrelly. But, if we're in this for the long haul, I guess we have to learn how to communicate about such things.
Again, how many of us worship the temple that is the woman's body? And, how many woman take care of it, love it and nurture it, themselves. I'm not talking about masturbation (Liz did. I can't). I'm talking about really taking care of yourselves, loving your own self, loving your own bodies (despite what the airbrushed, photo shopped magazines say), providing for yourself and the healthy, strong temples you'd be happy to look at in the mirror. I'd take confident over "perfect" any day, by the way.
Another thing I've learned is that if a woman feels "fat" or "ugly", or if she's feeling insecure or distracted by any thought (hell, even if her back hurts or my stubble hurts!) an orgasm isn't going to happen. But, hey, sometimes "it" doesn't happen. Women still enjoy the act of love making. At least that's what I've been told. Maybe I've been lied to. If that's true, the woman ultimately suffers. If a woman lies about sex with even a halfway decent man she's selling herself short.
Of course, chemistry is the key! See Day 58's entry. I've said enough, probably too much. And, I've even edited myself!
Liz offers a key (or is it instruction) for men: ". . . if a man really touches you gently, caresses your skin, says loving things, kisses you all over your body, takes his time . . . sex can be nice." p 302
How many of us take our time? I guess this question is really for the dudes. How many of us worship our women's bodies the way Felipe worships Liz's? I know, you're probably thinking (like me) try doing that after a year or 10 years, even. Doctors and therapists would have an answer for this. I do not.
I've known how to be animalistic. I've known how to find the woman who wants to be taken and take her. I've learned how to touch and kiss and lick in all the right places and move in all the right ways for the sake of pleasure. Let me stop here and note that I have since begun to learn the difference between love and pleasure . . . or even happiness and pleasure. But, back when I was picking up women, they were usually drunk and horny already, so they were already willing. When a woman is ready and willing all a man has to do is listen to her body and learn how to have a little stamina and well, you're great in bed! However, I imagine the women's insecurities and vulnerabilities were quieted by alcohol. And, great sex is different than great love making. Also, a dude has to eventually consider the cost of continually being a stud in a stranger's bed. Out there in the fictional world created in the deluded male brain (seemingly driven by scientifically suggested animal instinct ingrained in our DNA) the "stud" is the ideal. "The Ladies Man"!
However, the compulsion to please a new woman every night, to somehow win or dominate or achieve the "stud of the year award" leaves you feeling empty. The best I ever felt was the same, never better about myself. I'll stop short of getting entirely too personal here and say this: Even deeper than that urge to sow our oats sits the basic need to be loved. And, random acts of sex has never been a substitute for love. Believe me, I've tried. Maybe other men can do it without guilt or conscience. But, in pursuit of a meaningful life, such actions always left me wanting.
Then, there's sharing with the one you love! Scary! I still feel like I'm clumsy at it. Do I do the things Liz writes about? Yes. I think. At least I've learned how to listen to a woman's body. Without going to into embarrassing detail (I've embarrassed myself enough I think), time and attention with one woman will teach you a lot about what she likes.
Do I have patience, though? Do I really take my time, or do I rush into things and hope she'll catch up? I suppose my fiancee and I could have that conversation that makes the little boy inside me blush and get squirrelly. But, if we're in this for the long haul, I guess we have to learn how to communicate about such things.
Again, how many of us worship the temple that is the woman's body? And, how many woman take care of it, love it and nurture it, themselves. I'm not talking about masturbation (Liz did. I can't). I'm talking about really taking care of yourselves, loving your own self, loving your own bodies (despite what the airbrushed, photo shopped magazines say), providing for yourself and the healthy, strong temples you'd be happy to look at in the mirror. I'd take confident over "perfect" any day, by the way.
Another thing I've learned is that if a woman feels "fat" or "ugly", or if she's feeling insecure or distracted by any thought (hell, even if her back hurts or my stubble hurts!) an orgasm isn't going to happen. But, hey, sometimes "it" doesn't happen. Women still enjoy the act of love making. At least that's what I've been told. Maybe I've been lied to. If that's true, the woman ultimately suffers. If a woman lies about sex with even a halfway decent man she's selling herself short.
Of course, chemistry is the key! See Day 58's entry. I've said enough, probably too much. And, I've even edited myself!
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Day 58. March 26th, 2012 Chemistry
"My friend Annie says it all comes down to one simple question: 'Do you want your belly pressed against this person's belly forever - or not?'" p. 294
I think my fiancee and I have belly on belly chemistry. I'm not going to get into embarrassing details, but we all know when it feels good . . . and I'm not just talking the naughty bits. I'm talking the whole package. Like when they're skin feels good. Or, when they make that certain sound when you're "doing something right." We've noted that we're crazy over each others' pheromones.
But, like a typical guy, I'm about to nod off. The last two days I've been training at the restaurant, working on "Save the Dates" and meeting about a video shoot I have coming up. And, the chair I've found at the library is REALLY comfy. That all adds up to a powerful need for a nap. Thank God sex lasts longer than it took to write this.
I think my fiancee and I have belly on belly chemistry. I'm not going to get into embarrassing details, but we all know when it feels good . . . and I'm not just talking the naughty bits. I'm talking the whole package. Like when they're skin feels good. Or, when they make that certain sound when you're "doing something right." We've noted that we're crazy over each others' pheromones.
But, like a typical guy, I'm about to nod off. The last two days I've been training at the restaurant, working on "Save the Dates" and meeting about a video shoot I have coming up. And, the chair I've found at the library is REALLY comfy. That all adds up to a powerful need for a nap. Thank God sex lasts longer than it took to write this.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Day 57. March 24th, 2012 Fear
I've gotten a new job at a restaurant and I'm afraid. It's only part-time. I'm still afraid. Liz's life seems to simple, free, straightforward. I suppose she's not burdened with my kind of insanity. I get a new guy to help - I'm afraid. I get some work thrown my way - I'm afraid. I don't have any money - I'm afraid (well, that's a reasonable fear). I'm sick of all this fear!
I've learned that fear is a lack of faith. Yet, I seem no less afraid than when I was still drinking. It just goes to show that a simple cessation of drinking coupled with a little "straightening up and flying right" isn't enough.
Funny, God is giving me gifts and I'm afraid of them - like how I was afraid to jump into the pool for the first time when I was a child, untrusting of the swimming instructor and crying. However, by the time I was in Junior High School, I was competitively swimming; and winning from time to time. Interesting metaphor for my life. For, now I stand at the edge of every swimming pool God leads me too . . . and wail in fear, cling to my fiancee (like my mommy) looking to her for courage, afraid to leap into the pool of life.
What am I afraid of? Looking life a fool, a failure? Am I afraid of people not liking me, getting mad at me? I'm afraid of success, too. Actually, I'm afraid of the responsibility success will bring me. I'm also afraid of what a fool I'll look like trying to achieve success at something I'm not yet good at. I'm afraid of being laughed at or worse, being passed over. I'm afraid of the expectations that follow success. Perhaps, they'll realize I'm a fraud, that I don't have what it takes to run with the "big boys", to swim with the big kids.
So, where does that get me? Too much reliance on all things human. I, as a human and others as humans will let me down. My self-will can only get me so far. God does the rest. So, I get jealous of those who are actually brave enough to try. And, I'm judgemental of myself: "I'm not going to be good enough anyway, so why bother trying."
The effort, as I can recall, wasn't well-applauded when I was growing up. It was the accomplishments. And, second place wasn't good enough. Frustration and disappointment weren't always understood and acknowledged. Fear was never an option. I've come to believe that fear equals weakness.
However, I'm 8 years past the age where I can no longer blame my parents for my problems. I heard the other day that everybody experiences fear. Jeb Corliss (the guy in the wingsuit), I think said this and that the only difference is that he doesn't let fear own him or control him. I guess I do.
Then, I burden my fiancee with it. It sucks the passion and the romance out of our life together. It doesn't allow me to adore her the way Felipe adores Liz - with confidence, with certainty, in an uncomplicated, direct, pure, certain way. Liz is swimming with God and I'm too afraid to jump into his arms.
I have been fired from three restaurants, two in sobriety. One, I quit from in a very ugly way, then sat at the bar and drank (not in sobriety). Perhaps, I'm not thoroughly following God's path. And, no mystical, magical spell reserved for Scott is going to save me. I have to face my fears and trust that God will be right there with me the whole time and he won't let go.
If I went to Bali, it would just be an escape . . . an escape in vain, because there is no escape from fear.
I've learned that fear is a lack of faith. Yet, I seem no less afraid than when I was still drinking. It just goes to show that a simple cessation of drinking coupled with a little "straightening up and flying right" isn't enough.
Funny, God is giving me gifts and I'm afraid of them - like how I was afraid to jump into the pool for the first time when I was a child, untrusting of the swimming instructor and crying. However, by the time I was in Junior High School, I was competitively swimming; and winning from time to time. Interesting metaphor for my life. For, now I stand at the edge of every swimming pool God leads me too . . . and wail in fear, cling to my fiancee (like my mommy) looking to her for courage, afraid to leap into the pool of life.
What am I afraid of? Looking life a fool, a failure? Am I afraid of people not liking me, getting mad at me? I'm afraid of success, too. Actually, I'm afraid of the responsibility success will bring me. I'm also afraid of what a fool I'll look like trying to achieve success at something I'm not yet good at. I'm afraid of being laughed at or worse, being passed over. I'm afraid of the expectations that follow success. Perhaps, they'll realize I'm a fraud, that I don't have what it takes to run with the "big boys", to swim with the big kids.
So, where does that get me? Too much reliance on all things human. I, as a human and others as humans will let me down. My self-will can only get me so far. God does the rest. So, I get jealous of those who are actually brave enough to try. And, I'm judgemental of myself: "I'm not going to be good enough anyway, so why bother trying."
The effort, as I can recall, wasn't well-applauded when I was growing up. It was the accomplishments. And, second place wasn't good enough. Frustration and disappointment weren't always understood and acknowledged. Fear was never an option. I've come to believe that fear equals weakness.
However, I'm 8 years past the age where I can no longer blame my parents for my problems. I heard the other day that everybody experiences fear. Jeb Corliss (the guy in the wingsuit), I think said this and that the only difference is that he doesn't let fear own him or control him. I guess I do.
Then, I burden my fiancee with it. It sucks the passion and the romance out of our life together. It doesn't allow me to adore her the way Felipe adores Liz - with confidence, with certainty, in an uncomplicated, direct, pure, certain way. Liz is swimming with God and I'm too afraid to jump into his arms.
I have been fired from three restaurants, two in sobriety. One, I quit from in a very ugly way, then sat at the bar and drank (not in sobriety). Perhaps, I'm not thoroughly following God's path. And, no mystical, magical spell reserved for Scott is going to save me. I have to face my fears and trust that God will be right there with me the whole time and he won't let go.
If I went to Bali, it would just be an escape . . . an escape in vain, because there is no escape from fear.
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