Expanding Minorities

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There is one aspect of myself that makes me different. It is not something I would change if I could and honestly I don’t feel that I can. It is noteworthy only because there are more people who aren’t like me than who are. But it is not inherently odd, really it’s just another size of the same coin. Anyway, it only represents a tiny portion of what makes me who I am.

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Over Do It

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If there something in your life
that hurts more than it helps,
that keeps you from yourself:
you must end it.

For years you told yourself “it’s not that bad”,
tolerated its intrusion,
found ways to coexist-
and so it persisted.

You felt you had control,
that you were winning the fight.
No need for a drastic overhaul,
why douse a candle flame with flood?

You believed its desires were your own,
it spoke in your voice, or thoughts.
Oh parasite of deception!
Even your reflection is a lie.

And time goes by and there it is,
only deeper now, more ensnared.
This stowaway has stolen years
and you have let it.

Do not tap timidly at its door
and request that it step aside.
It has shown you no such courtesy
and does not deserve your respect.

Are you afraid of becoming too cured?
Too healed? Too alive?
Or do you fear the sting of really trying
only to see you’re standing still?

It will take a running start.
Fly at it with all your might.
Rip it, gouge it, tear it from its perch
Look around to find that what remains is you.

And don’t stop fighting.
Never stop fighting.
Even when it is just a sad memory,
and you have regained your Self.

Already you have given far too much.
There will never be a better moment.
Free yourself.
Act now.
Over do it.

Peace

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With thoughts awhir inside my head
Unceasingly from dawn till bed
I look at you and then, instead,

I am still.

I thought within my anxious mind,
In constant searching I would find
But though I sought I was but blind

I see you.

It seemed that I could earn my truth
Life as some mathematic proof
But until you, I was aloof

You are peace.

My Vice

Transcript of my Moth Story Hour Submission, Subject: Vices

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All my life I have been building: making plans, gaining knowledge, forming relationships, accumulating possessions. But for nine years there has been an insidious black mold in the foundation of my life’s structure that undermines everything I pile on top of it. My vice goes by a lot of names but you could call it perfectionism, insecurity, avoidance, addiction, an inability to cope.

For years, anything I didn’t like about myself or couldn’t handle got pushed down into a place where I wouldn’t have to deal with it. In time I created a “me” that was completely separate from the person I showed to the world. I had an entire hidden life.

I tried everything to cure myself of my problem: medication, therapy, rehab, self-interventions. Nothing fully eradicated it. And then, because I couldn’t fix it, I ignored it. But problems do not solve themselves and, untended, a cancer grows. Eventually it spread beyond containment.

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New Life Survival Guide

new life-450Remember learning about the “discovery of America” in elementary school? It was easy to be impressed by the valiant explorers setting off across the sea. I was easy to imagine doing the same if only you were born in the right century. How did those brave explorers prepare for a trip from which they might never return? Weapons, tools, blankets and food, how do you pack for a new life? Nowadays it seems that there is no place left to discover, everything has already been “found” and colonized long ago. But that doesn’t mean that there isn’t still the chance to have a new life. There are countless people across this ever-shrinking globe who silently fantasize about a whole new existence. And, though the contents of their suitcases may differ today from what they would have been long ago, the basic ingredients needed to set off into and survive a new life are still the same.

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Dear Family

When I told you that I was still sick,
and that I was going to get help,
we hugged and cried and you gave your support.

And while I was in treatment,
you sometimes inquired,
responding to my positive updates.

But after I left that place,
we never talked about it again.
You assumed the best and I let you

See, this problem thrives in darkness,
I hardly confront it with myself,
and even less with others.

I know it’s not that you didn’t care,
but the fact that you never asked,
really hurts.

If you had asked me straight
I might have lied,
but at least then you could say you tried.

There’s never time to ask the question
with one right answer,
the one that that you won’t hear.

And so it continued,
with you cloaked in wishful thinking,
and me hidden in my shame.

Until, once again, I intervened
tearing open that inner door
shining light on the destruction.

Its like I’ve always known,
that even with all the support in the world
this problem is mine alone to solve.

Public Accounting

On a trip to Germany years ago, I was chastised by complete strangers while riding the subway on two separate occasions. The first time, I was drinking a beer (legal in public but not legal on the train apparently) and the second time, I had my feet up on the seat opposite (not quite illegal but certainly rude). In both instances, a passenger saw my wrongdoing and called me out. For my part, I corrected my aberrant behavior and that was it. I could have ridden the subway all day and night without encountering a police officer to punish me but, as it was, I learned an easy lesson without receiving a ticket or using up city government resources.  That is the power of public accountability. Continue reading