Shared Strength

I have lived a life of problems, each equipped with its own level of urgency and anxiety. Some business, some personal, some out of my control and some that are simply none of my business to solve. The problem with problems is that they do not just live in the moment, problems can be in the past as easily as the future or even the present. They typically bring with them change and change is scary, even when it is valuable change. Unfortunately, we are not automobiles with a sensor to inform us that we have a problem and a manual to show us the remedy. Instead, we are left to an unscripted next move, like playing chess against some sort of invisible grand master. To wait would be best, I could ponder, review and execute. But the urgency weighs heavy, the time to act must surely be now and I execute quickly. Perhaps it is on the mark, but history proves contrary, and each quick mark is followed by a new problem to solve and another pound of urgency to carry. Slowly and without ...

To be with you is pleasure, even though time together can sometimes become routine.  The magic hides well in the mundane and ordinary.  But your love is extraordinary in a way that words cannot describe.  As each of us must face our own insignificance, in a world that's made to forget. I find myself cleaving to the memories, passionate kisses, children's small voices and animals past.  The sadness, failures and illness are the trials that test and strengthen the bond.  Like a ship at sea, we bounce, rock and jolt in the unforgiving waters.  From hands up in excitement to holding on for dear life, we float along together.  Life is spent between low tide and high tide, we make our marks in the sand and cast about worried about the marks of others.  To live simply is best, but the pressure is to be different, unique and one of a kind, by being just like everyone else.  Our love is not fit for the free press, it is rocky, bumpy and filled with ba...

 I can feel the energy building, the inertia is a force all it's own.  I spent years developing it through push and prod.  To ride that wave of energy to a place that would be the envy of the masses.  But to go there means to change fundamentally.  To forgo the things that are real, and accumulate the fake.  A dream that I always endeavored towards for some reason now seems a curse.  I have seen the ending and it now frightens me.  I have seen the legions lost to their own futile quest for glory, vanity and praise.  Work and charge forth as the shackles grow tighter, drink of the cup of praise until character is diminished.  To paint the meek and balanced as lesser than and depict false warranties of happiness and self esteem.  But at night, when the room grows dark and we are all naked versions of ourselves, the voice grows loud and ever reminds, you will never be enough.  So each new day, a new mistake in the quest to satisfy...

If If for a moment I can dare to dream Of a life worthy of such esteem.   A life of privilege and ease  Free to come and go as I please.   To remove the struggle and the strife And free my perfect life.   What I would do and what I would say If my world was done my way.   Although my dream is big and bright  I ponder if it be right.   To remove the strife Is to dull a knife.   The learning of the great divine  Soon lost through comfort and time.   The touch of love, the pride of success Would soon become an onerous test.   The would I and could I  And the if only I could try.  To live simply and without fare  Would be a dream if I could dare.   But to leave the privilege and divine  Is something I would ponder with time.   Safe to stay the course and hold the rail  Afraid that I may fail.   To be laughed at as a great fraud  For leavi...

I remember it vividly, the smell of the gym, the sound of the ball as it landed to the ground and the feeling of an exhale that tasted of failure and relief.  There have been numerous times in my life where I have made 100 free throws in a row, which is why it came as such a surprise when I missed when the game was on the line.  Everything about me that day was capable except for that loud voice inside of me telling that it can't be done, that the situation is different, that I should put the ball down and leave.  As the ball bounced off the right side of the rim, before falling in what appeared to be slow motion the ground, I could feel the internal voice reassuring me of my mediocrity.  Brushed under the rug, the thousands of hours spent in practice.  Forgotten, the capability earned through worthwhile choices.  I remember learning to hate basketball as I spent my time yearning for the game to be pure, like it was in the good ole days.  Sitting and...

 The coals of the two room shanty house lay smoldering in the hot Arizona sun.  The day prior was just an ordinary day, the Madison School for education and then home to play in the barrio that was his home.  The shanty house was not much, just a little shade from the blazing sun in the Summer and generally dry protection from the monsoons in the Winter.  But now it was gone and to make the situation worse his older Sister Florinda is in the hospital.  It would be several hours until he learned that he would never see her again in this life.  Her passing marked the first moment of true sadness for the 9 year old boy, a pain that he thought could not be worse.   Life continued for the small Hispanic family, a new house was found and life slowly returned to normal for young Librado.  His Mom Josefia continued to show signs of great sadness from the passing of her daughter. His Mom was a beautiful woman from El Triunfo in Mexico's Baja Peninsula...

  I miss those I have lost along the way; I miss the way they smelled, smiled, angered, and cared.   In my youth I knew nothing of time, I had more than I wanted or could comprehend.   In a land of rising tomorrows another opportunity is just ahead.   As those individuals passed, I grew frustrated in my choices and my priorities.   Opportunities missed are now my burden to carry.   Just one more memory is now but a mirage.   As I grew into my own family, years of life stood before us, a land of rising tomorrows once more.   But each stage is fleeting in a growing child and the burden of choice begins anew.   As time passes, they grow, they change and develop, they are beautiful to watch in their own unique ways.   As they do, I celebrate their blossoming as a person and mourn the loss of the part of them that required me so dearly.   They are growing into a land of rising tomorrows of their own.   I will still carry a lifetim...