The One Armed Man

Every now and then, the oddest, and most serious of days leaps upon you in fashions you never even expected.

Today was one such day and opened my eyes to many things.

As some of you will know, my sister Heather was departing on her sojourn across the world today, to return in no less than 2 years, if ever. I knew it was coming, and I was delighted for her given this was something she'd intimated she had wanted to do for a very long time.

Even given that time to prepare, even given my happiness and pride at her taking on the challenge, my mood was affected in ways I could not have forseen today. I was levelled with nostalgia, pummelled with the need to rehash the past, and driven to think of all the people whom I miss from my life these days - family or not.

As you might imagine, that hardly leaves one in a state of stratospheric happiness, nor, in my case, did it leave me solidly in a gutter somewhere. Instead, I was somewhere inbetween, sporting the bruises of a person who was neither wildly happy, nor unhappy; but of someone contemplative enough to recognise a number of mistakes, and to reprioritise some things that he had perhaps taken for granted.

I had planned to go to the airport with my other sisters and my brother-in-law to see Heather off, and this realisation simply made the determination to be there greater.

Seeing Heather off was harder than I had expected. I'm not good at the personal stuff face to face, I never have been, and I've gotten worse as the days of my life have passed. I don't suppose I appeared to anyone around me as if I was much impacted by my sisters departure, but I was. My sisters' subsequent reactions were enough to make me realise how much I was going to miss Heather, and how much the three of us still here would have to stick together in her absence.

Technically I only have two blood sisters, Lorraine and Heather, but for as long as I can remember Nancy has been there, and for me there is no distinction strong enough to convince me to think of Nance as anything less than family.

For me, myself and my sisters have always been like 4 people making up the parts of one person.

Lorraine is the temperance and the calm.
Nancy is the compassion and understanding.
Heather is the brains and the lover.
And I am the fire and the recklessness.

In some ways I feel a little like a person who just lost a part of his brain, or more closely an arm or a leg. I've been prepared for the operation for a long time, and still my body is in shock.

However, all that said, I would gladly give that arm for Heather to achieve what she wants to achieve. I'd give my entire being for any of them to get what they deserve from life. Heather was always the one who was going to do the brave things. The revolutionary and the free of heart and so, deep down, it doesn't surprise me that we have to say goodbye to her, even on a temporary basis.

To Heather, and to all of my sisters, I love you all dearly. You are my conscience, my strength, and my heart - without you I would be lost. With you, I can leap large buildings in a single leap.

Nietzsche says "Family love is messy, clinging, and of an annoying and repetitive pattern, like bad wallpaper".

I'll take that mess, annoyance and repetition any day of the week.

I'm Waiting For My Real Life To Begin

It occurs to me how easy it is to lose sight of all the important things in life. We all have priorities in our lives, many of which vary from person to person, but some remain constant.

Many of us measure our lives by the success we have had. The main flaw I find in people, including myself, is the means by which we create that line of success. How do we judge success? Is it measured by money? By academic achievement? By rank and title? Or is it by that which we often forget, the successes in life that may not return a tangible benefit like fortune, like rich lifestyle, like sycophantic admiration?

The former is often how we judge ourselves, and that's not all wrong. Many of us have goals in life, and those goals are admirable ones, assuming they do make us forget the other elements of life. The latter, well that is an element of life that heralds a beauty I believe is unparalleled in this brief existence.

What of family? Morality? Inspiration? Loyalty?

These are things that many of us, alongside our career aspirations, pride highly; But how often do we forget these things? How often do we let these things drift to the background, because we believe the fast pace of life today demands we do so, whether we want to or not?

All too often I fear.

These are the things that are life. To work continuously, ever allowing the fast pace of life to spiral out of control, and force those more important elements to background, is merely to survive.

To live - now there is a challenge.

It makes me think of a song I rather enjoy:

Any minute now, my ship is coming in
I'll keep checking the horizon
I'll stand on the bow, feel the waves come crashing
Come crashing down down down, on me

And you say, be still my love
Open up your heart
Let the light shine in
But don't you understand
I already have a plan
I'm waiting for my real life to begin

There is a clever message in this song, and it inspires me to understand something that I think I forgot all about.

Having a plan is not enough. Waiting for your life to begin is folly. You must make it happen, for if you don't, you may well wake up one day, realising you have accomplished much in the fast paced world, and in turn have let the true essence of life pass you by.

You might just wake up one day and realise that you're on your own, and while you worked and focussed on academia and fortune, your life, your family and all you thoguht you prized so highly has passed you by.

Inspiration is all anyone needs.

Consider me inspired.

Introspection..

I am always wary when I feel like this. I have always been an emotional person, anyone who knows me will know this all too well. It tends to be those emotions which lead me to write this down.

Is it a plea for help from the darkness of a sad mind? No, I don't think so. I don't write it here in the hope that someone might pop along and massage my wounds with a kind word. I put it here so that it might forever remind me of the mistakes I have made.

During different periods of my life I have done different things with those emotions.

When I was young I turned them into anger and hate. That path is a dangerous one, and at some point down the line, no matter who you are, you'll crash. I did.

Then I learned to show my emotions, and be open about them. It led me to one of the people who, until I die, will always hold a special place in my heart. But, eventually, I destroyed that relationship, by being foolish, and letting small things snowball until I was no longer a viable option.

That led me to one of the darkest periods of my life (which for anyone who really knows me would know to be a fairly daunting prospect) with only the odd few lights throughout.

Eventually I got here, and whilst I am more in control, more steady, cleaner and stronger in spirit, I still harbour regrets.

I look upon my life and wonder how I could have made it better. I have left a trail of destruction in my wake in my short time on this planet. My past turns to ash and dust, and engulfs anyone who accompanied me along the way. It's a tough realisation, but one which, rightly so, had to come to light.

I never really committed to anything in my life fully. I was always in it for the quick win; I always had something better, less productive, less successful to do and achieve. In every element of my life, I could have done better. I was capable, but I lacked motivation. I was big on the talk, and lacking in the action.

As a result, I now see my life as a series of wasted opportunities, ruined moments, and coal-coloured remnants which can never be repaired, or even returned to a portion of their former glory.

It is days like this, I take a good long hard look at myself, and what I have achieved and realise that I don't really like what I see. It is days like this, that no matter what philospohical nonsense I manage to spout, no matter what I tell myself to feel better about, it makes no difference. I have nothing to show for my efforts, limited as they may be.

I pushed anyone and everyone who ever loved me, and I ever loved, away. Through fear; Through stupidity; Through selfishness.

Dramatic? Not really. Self deprecatory? Perhaps. Honest with self? Certainly.

And not before time.

Isn't that sad.

Just when you thought you had folk figured out....

...they go and do something you didn't expect.

Yesterday was not one of my better days. All in all, it could have been a lot worse, since very little of a "nasty" nature occurred, however I did lose my cool a bit and was not as composed and calm as I pride myself on being these days.

I guess we all have our bad days, but I am bothered when I allow my frustrations to overwhelm my ability to remain calm and controlled. Yesterday was such a day.

I think it was probably a culmination of a number of things, however thats no excuse.

Here's to a better day today (cold not withstanding).

Flight, we are go for launch

This year brings a number of new things and new perspectives for me at Christmas time, and in an unprecedented manouver, I am actually smiling. Christmas has always been one of my favourite times of year, but I admit to feeling a little "Bah-Humbug!" up until this point this year.

I don't imagine that's out of character considering the bad news I have had recently concerning jobs etc, but still I feel like smiling. Why? Well mainly because, it is my belief that, if you can smile at no other time of the year, if you can find no other time to put all angers and haunting, arguments and quandries to the side, then you should do so at Christmas. Not because of any religious or morale grounds, but simply because it's one of the few times where families get together and enjoy time in each others' company. To someone like me, family is the most important thing, and so Christmas holds a special significance for me. Despite it's lead up to January, my least favourite month of the year for many reasons, I can find time to smile, love and occasionally, and surprisingly sing (though not in anyone elses company :P).

So I give my best Christmas wishes to all those people who have touched my life. My family is not always those who share my blood, and whilst some of those ties have been weakened, broken and are being reforged recently, but I spare no thought for the bad - and instead I wish you all the best of times.

May you all enjoy this time of year, enjoy the warmth created by your families, and come out of it with a new understanding of what life, whether it be painful or not, can offer in those small times when we are all together.

I'll be incommunicado over the next few days as I enter a communication blackout household (fancy-speak for no internet) but will return on the 26/27th.

My love to you all...and a very Merry Christmas.

Houston, this is B-Man, signing off.

Twisted Mirrors

Leave it to this crazy existence to give you a kick up the ass in the most indirect fashion, right when you weren't expecting it.

The last few months have been nothing short of monumental for me. I have changed dramatically as a person, without any real intention to do so. My outlook on life has changed spectacularly and I have begun (and in some cases fully completed) processing many of the things that haunt me on a daily basis; So much so I would say, for the most part that I am, for the first time in my life, at peace.

Match all that with the fact that my new start has gone better than I expected in as much as I have new permanent job (one which I have wanted to do for some time), I have a nice place to live (it'll do for now:)) and in general things are pretty settled.

So, how does the world interfere with that in a way which will have more impact than directly ruining any one of those things? Well, by hitting someone close to you instead. It seems that when I look around me, many of my closest friends and family are having a really hard time of it. If I wasn't quite as philosophical about things as I am these days, I would begin to feel guilty for the fact that things are settling for me, but regardless, that outlook doesn't prevent me (nor should it) from empathising and, in some cases, worrying frantically about those people I care about.

My parents have been going through a hard time recently, so much so that I suspected a seperation might be in order. Then, things seemed to sort a little, enough to keep them together, but with a lot of work ahead of them to resolve the issues. I put myself to work trying to assist in every way possible, only to find today, that my positive outlook was, perhaps, not so realistic.

Advice given to my father today was not of a positive nature, and has surely served to crush his spirit, and that of my mothers, even more.

Suddenly I find that my emotions are torn between a genuine worry and empathy for their situation, and a potent distress over the fact that I can do little-to-nothing to assist them.

Isn't it ironic that, sometimes, when the people closest to us are going through a hard time, we focus so heavily on what we don't seem to be able to do to help, and thus being a little self involved at a time where selflessness is the dish of the day.

I chastised myself today for such contemplations, realising that it was selfish of me to focus on my apparent helplessness instead of truly understanding, empathising and doing the small amount I can to help them along the road they must now follow.

I know much of what they are feeling, and I do not envy them for having to walk a dark tunnel from which, there often seems no escape.

My realisation that I was being selfish has however strengthened my resolve to do right by them by being there at every turn.

If they must walk that long, seemingly endless tunnel, then I plan to walk beside them, baring some of the weight so that the journey may not be as toiling and lengthy as it might otherwise be. They must have the strength to march on now, in this situation, but when that strength fails, and they fall, then I shall be there to pick them up, and carry them a little on their way; I'll carry them 'till they can indeed carry themselves once again, and together we will reach that light at the end of the tunnel - that light which I know to be there, but remains illusive to those too blinded by grief to see it.

This I vow with all that I am, and never let me sway from this path.

A Cat With 9 Lives

I don't think I'll ever understand how exactly my brain works. I don't suppose mines is different from anyone elses, except perhaps that it has a few less cells working in there than most.

In a week where a big positive change for me is coming (namely moving into a new place tomorrow and a fresh beginning), I find myself a myriad of emotions. Anxious, nervous, nostalgic, and most of all, but not surprisingly, afraid.

I have wanted to get back on my feet for so long now. After all the health problems, all the emotional rollercoasters, and the seemingly unending foray (is that a contradiction in terms?!) of bad luck, all I wanted was to get back on my feet and try to begin my life again.

It occured to me at that point, that I have done this before. Long ago, I changed everything, and started a new life. I took what I hated about my life (which at that point was everything), binned it, and started a-new. Only in hindsight can I see that that was a mistake. I was never starting a-fresh, leaving the old behind. It was all merely a continuation of the same old life. I had never changed, not really. All I had done was to suppress those horrific things inside of me, in favour of better, more honourable ones. How long did I expect that to last? The rest of my life? Nope, that was unrealistic, and virtually impossible. We are merely the sum of our experiences, with a few extra's thrown in, like the people we have around us.

I am sad to say that, whilst other factors intervened, I managed to fuck that "life" up too.

So now, I look on it, not as a new life but a fresh beginning. A new burst of energy after a rest from the toils. The world will throw more challenges, and hard times, and disappointments at me before I am done, and I have to face those with the vigor I have inside.

A person whom I valued so much in the past said to me recently said that he hoped I would regain that "lust for life" which he associated with me. I had never heard anyone say that about me before. It surprised me, and I found myself stuck for words, which threw me a little off balance, as I am so often overly wordy.

And so I look again to the myriad that my mind is. The dramatic, expansive stretch of emotions I now feel, and wonder how to sort one from the other.

Why am I afriad? That question is the easiest to answer. I feel let down, and I feel I have let others down. I lack trust in people, and I lack trust in myself. I am afriad to make all the same mistakes again, when it comes to people, when it comes to me, when it comes to life. Those are the things that scare me.

What also scares me is that, I feel quite spectacularly alone now. I am not alone of course. I have a wonderful family and a wonderful set of friends who get me through, and provide me with strength when I feel I have none. Still, I lost so much from the endeavors of the past, not least of which was a person whom I had called a brother. A person whom I had no fear of revealing my true feelings to, regardless of how frightened, or afraid, or angry I might be. I no longer have him, or that outlet, and whilst there are two that I can think of who would warrant such trust, I find it difficult to grant. One, I feel, needs me to be strong for him, not the other way around. The other, whilst demonstrating all the honour and brotherly love I could ask for in a true brother, I find I am not yet ready to bestow that trust to another who might hurt me. That is my wrong doing, but it does not change my inability to perform such an action.

Why am I nostalgic? For all the reasons above. For all of them, and because I wake up often in the middle of the night, and cry, wishing that it could all be different, and that I could have those people back that are no longer in my life; Because I want it to go back to how it was.

I know it cannot be the way it was. That is part of the realisation that has led me to understand that this is not a new life, and instead is a refreshing beginning, allowing me to use the knowledge of the past to the best effect - never to make the same mistakes again.

That realisation does not take away those feelings, though it does help to settle them slightly, preventing them from taking me over completely, and rendering me impotent to the actions I must now take.

So I say, bring on those challenges. I am no stronger than I once was - in fact, most likely quite the contrary - but I will face them down as the mountain does the storm, and I will prevail. This I know if I look deeply enough.

Bring on those challenges. I am ready.

Progress is a trip across the bridge....

Is there really a balance to life I wonder?

We, as a people, often endulge in little half-truths or "granny's myths" (ironically closer to rhyming with "Granny Smiths" than I would like, but there we go), in order to make us feel better, or more justified in our cynical view of the world.

"Bad luck comes in threes"...and the likes.

So, is there really a balance. If you were to tally up the bad against the good, would the score be even? Is every negative act in our lives bolstered and counteracted by a positive one, even if its not immediate, or in order? I guess thats a question of perception, and temperament - for both skew our interpretation of what is good or bad, what is right and wrong.

And so I move from a generic generalised viewpoint, to a selfish, and more specific life. Mine.

Can the most recent good thing that has happened force those other less than enjoyable experiences to the background? Can it spread light across those incidents which have cast shadows on my spirit of late. Possibly, is the most direct answer I can come up with.

This was the beginning I needed. A new job, a new start. I look on this new job as a positive thing. It actually made me smile, and strangely, made members of my family tell me they were proud of me. I wonder if they were proud of me because they thought I had fixed myself, rather than simply securing new employment - the step to a new beginning. I know not, but their sentiments and comments were heartfelt and genuine, and for me, there can be no greater compliment.

So, a new job. A good thing to balance the bad? Perhaps. I didn't get here how I wanted to, but none of us ever do. If we had that much control over life, would it ever really be a challenge? Yet, if we did, would we all be so sorry to see an end to the challenge? In answering that question, I find myself referring to yet another well used, feel good "granny's myth":

"Everything in moderation...everything in moderation".

Starting A-fresh

Sometimes I feel that every major event in my life is accompanied by the creation of a new blog, LJ or some other online posting facility. Thinking on it, this seems highly ridiculous, and makes me wonder what I was thinking at the time. The irony of that contemplation is that by writing this, I am conforming to that very principle to which I presume not to understand.

Ah well, we are creatures of habit after all.

Myriad. Thats a good word for the thoughts inside my head at this point. The following comments are going to appear completely self absorbed, unappreciative and niave and in fairness, they will at least truthfully be of the former qualification.

Life, when I felt it was about at its hardest, just got harder. I wont go into miniscule detail over the why's and hows of the situation, except to say that life for the last 2 years has been a concentration of pain, anguish, loss and general discomfort, more so than any other period in my life. In the last 6 months, I have had to let go of a lot of things, whether I wanted to or not. I gave up the woman I loved, because that love was indeed unrequited, and with her the little girl I think of as my own. Now, after having to do that my best friend has done something that I cannot see past. He has betrayed me in a way I never thought he would.

I have often placed trust in people, and they have let me down, as people often do to others. Trying not to become the ultimate pessimist, I did my best not to allow that to affect the decisions of trust I would make in the future. I was aware that there was a risk involved, and that it was unlikely that no one would ever let me down in the future, but still I tried to continue to hold faith in the people around me.

It amuses me how much things change. The man I called family, the man whom with I placed every ounce of faith, was the man who eventually destroyed me. I shy when I think of it, because not only did he betray me, but in doing so, I have changed for the worst.

So now, a man whom I thought would never leave my life except to rise to that spiritual existence which I hope meets us all when we pass from this infernal world, has been ejected. I have never looked on him with true anger and despair before. Always have I revered him, respected him, loved him; Now, I have no idea who he is. He is a shell, a man I cannot connect with, because I do not understand how he could do what he has done after everything we have been through.

So, I must start again. It has a certain appeal, I admit. However, starting again is so much work, and it does not prevent my mind from creeping into the past in search of the things that made me who I am. The things, the people, the times that I loved...all of it.

My pain numbs me. His will pass with time no doubt. His life will take him places which may or may not bring him happiness, but soon I will be forgotten, and he will move on. It has begun already, and I find I resent him for it. I know that to be unfair as we all must move on with our lives. We all have skeletons and things to atone for, and he will do his best to atone for his mistakes, as I do for mine. But still, regardless of that logic in my head, I find myself resenting his recovery. Does hate swell inside me now, after all these years. After spending so long trying to make up for those awful things I have done in the past, and trying to be a forgiving, understanding, strong person; Does hate live here now?

How am I to know? If it does, does it blind me? Can a destroyed soul every really heal?