Going deeper

It’s not just a pretty slogan.

What does it mean to go deeper?  As a father, as a husband, as a disciple?  To  really invest yourself in what you are doing, to invest yourself with the people you’re with, to be fully present where you are?  We were studying a scripture from the book of Luke tonight in our Bible study, where Jesus takes Simon Peter out to the deeper part of the sea and has him pull up loads of fish, so much so that James and John are called for in the second boat and then both boats barely make it back to shore, where Jesus makes them fishers of men and they leave all behind to go with him.  There were a number of things that went through my head and heart tonight, but the two that struck me the strongest were “What happened to all that fish?” and “I’ll bet that that step from boat to shore was the longest one any of those brothers had ever taken.”

Being a parent is never easy.  I say this will all the accumulated wisdom of a man who knows just how little he knows.  I have apologized lots to my own parents and have managed thus far to not strangle my own offspring.  I don’t know very many people who chose to have kids.  Oh, I know people who were trying and people who were/are really excited, but timed it?  Planned, had everything really ready in their lives and then slam, bam, thank you… you get the idea.  No.  Not many like that.  Most of us had kids in the middle of everything else.  We were busy trying to live our own lives and suddenly here’s this thing, this life, this precious amazing gift, that you can’t tell exactly how you feel about it, because on the one hand it’s the most awesome thing in the world, and in the other, it’s gonna change EVERYTHING.  But it calls you to pay attention when you don’t want to.  It interrupts you when you’re trying to concentrate.  It frustrates you, embarasses you, pisses you off and generally drives you batty.  But when you are on your last nerve, just when things seem their bleakest, your child comes up to you and gives you an honest hug.  Not one that they think they have to give, or one that is to get something, but an honest-to-goodness “I love you” hug and it melts your heart.  They pull you to see how far you’ll go before you break, to see what they’re limits are, yet still they love you.  And somehow it still all (mostly) turns out all right.  Amazing to me…

Second only to being a parent has got to be a partner.  This is where the fish come in.  I mean seriously, these guys, Peter et al, had been out all night, working the late shift (which I can tell you from personal experience SUCKS) and then being asked by this interrerant preacher to go back out, back to work for just a little while.  Being partnered with somebody means making those trips, going out and sacrificing even when  you don’t really want to, just because somebody asks.  And then something miraculous happens, they succeed in ways they never dreamt possible…but that’s not the point of the story imo…and it’s interesting to me that after having this really cool thing happen Peter freaks out and in shame and fear tells Jesus to leave – “I am a sinner.”  Man, I’m right there with him.  When Jesus invades my crappy, smelly, hard working life to make amazing things happen, I don’t know that I want things to change, I don’t want any of this to get lost.  I know (or at least I think I do at times) who and what I am and what I have done.  But Jesus, like a good partner, looks past all that, sees the better person we are ALL called to be and loves us all the same.  And that call, to service and to discipleship means leaving everything you’ve known behind, even the most awesome catch that could set you up for life… because you realize how immaterial it all really is and are able to focus on what’s important.  THAT’S the amazing thing about this story, Jesus said there would be fish there and there were, and then he said to the fishermen “Come with me” and they DID.  Leading to my third point tonight…

They LEFT!  EVERYTHING!

There was no comment in the scripture that they hesitated, that they had to wrap up affairs or go say good-bye.  They pulled their leaky boats into shore, left the nets, catch, families, job, etc  behind and went to follow the Master.  Crap, I have a hard enough time making it to church some Sundays.  And these guys just left…or at least that’s what the story tells us.  But there is so much room in those words, as there is in all the rest of the Bible… it makes me wonder.  How did Peter get from “Go away from me Lord, I am a sinful man” to being one of those who left it all and followed Jesus, just from the boat ride back to shore?  Shore lines, like dawn/dusk and the edges of wild places have long been seen as places of holiness, where the divine leaks into this world.  Where people are transformed from one thing to another.  Jesus took them out away from shore, taking them deeper than they really wanted to go while they were tired, sore and I imagine, a little frustrated with this pushy preacher.  And transformed them upon their return… but I gotta think as they stepped off those boats to follow Him there was a lot going on in their heads.

That’s where I find myself right now.

I’ve gone deeper.  There are still plenty more miracles and things to learn ahead, no doubt of that, this is NOT the end but rather the beginning of the journey.

I’ve witnessed the miracle.  It terrifies me, awes me, encourages me, threatens me, lifts me up and offers me hope…yes… ALL at the same time.

And now I’m standing at the edge of my boat…staring at the shore…looking at the single longest step of my life I have ever taken.  I can’t do it myself.  As Paul talks about in Corinthians, something like this, this expression of faith, is not something that will come entirely from inside me.  It will be something bestowed from the Holy Spirit.  The question is…do I want it?  God is constantly giving us gifts and urging us forward to a better relationship with Him.  Taking this step means finally, truly, letting go of the illusion of control and following the wonder.  I don’t know how it will transform my life or the life of my son or those around me.  I stand here, waiting for a sign, a call, something, anything.  But I realize I’ve already received it.  The invitation is there and he’s waiting for me, there on the shore.  Arms outstretched and love shining in every movement, like we hope we have on our faces when our children turn to us.  And I am ashamed.  I am face to face with my lusts, my desires, my fears, my angers and all I want to say is God please, leave me be, I am a sinner, and not worthy of your presence.  But he stays…and calls to me to be a fisher of men.  God pushes God’s way into my busy, smelly, crazy life.  Where it’s not convinent, and it’s annoying and there are other things crying for attention… and God says “Love me.”  And go forth…

I can’t take this step on my own -

But I believe God wants me to take it…

Fiction vs Real life…and winning…

So I don’t really care who knows this but I like to play role-playing games.  Not quite the geeky stuff you see in the movies, or the weird freaky times people have acting out this stuff out in the streets of the world…but role-playing as communal story-telling.  Sitting around a table with a group of friends, working together within a framework of rules to tell a story with one person keeping track of the narrative, something all of us have done a variation of from time to time.  Normally it’s a ton of fun and I really enjoy it.  It’s the opportunity to play and be something other than you are, to explore other parts of yourself you don’t or can’t do in “real” life.  The funny thing is, this time around, for this particular game, I’ve created a character who’s a lot more like me than I usually play.  Someone who is conflicted about the path their on, someone who has had a rough past (to put it charitably) but is trying to turn away into something new, someone who cares about and wants to protect people but struggles with creating and maintaining healthy positive relationships.  Remember the whole point of the exercise is escapism…but, just as in good literature, the best stories are not always the easiest to read.

I love the members of my game group and I love what our Storyteller is doing with our characters.  The complexity and creativity involved in coming up with the situations we deal with is staggering for people to understand, even for those who have this as a hobby.  And my friend is good, really good.  Which is why it surprised me so much that the adventure tonight bothered me as much as it did.  My character was faced with the prospect of using something he would normally view as bad/unwholesome to destroy something that was truly unholy and evil.  This was not a compromise he made easily and is likely going to struggle with for a while in game time, and with the consequences of that choice.  The character was not defiant but diplomacy was not the action that felt right.  It may seem childish or outlandish that grown people do this sort of thing, but think of movies, tv shows.  In many ways it is nothing more than acting in place, using your imagination and some creativity to tell stories with people that explore all sorts of things.  Ideally, good role-playing is more than a variation on kill a monster, take it’s loot, go kill a bigger monster, get better loot, etc. Good role-playing, like good acting, explores a range of emotions and ideas… and the things that my character are going through are hitting a little close to home at the moment.

Granted we’re taking a bit of a break for a while as our real lives are sort of taking over…being adult means you can’t sit around and hang out till midnight every night of the week and sleep in till noon.  Unfortunately.  So there will be some time for me as a person to move beyond where my character is.  There are plenty of things on my plate at the moment, the last thing I need to do is to add something more.  It’s just weird sometimes how much fiction and real life intertwine themselves…

Skirting the edge

So at what point does being friends become something else?  I was thinking about that today as I was listening to other college recruiters talk at an education fair I was at today representing my school.  Recruiters being a naturally garralous bunch (and there being NO prospective students around) we talked about everything, from raising kids, to fond college memories, to favorite drinks, to the weirdness that is humanity, plus some.  One of the young ladies there was commenting on how tired she got of having to fend of her guy friends and expressed something to the effect of “why don’t they just get it?”  Seeing as how this particular topic is somewhat near and dear to me right now I did what sensible men have been doing around women for centuries… I shut up, said nothing and listened intently – trying to parse out the kernels of potential female wisdom being made available for the picking.  Needless to say I was disappointed.  Talking with my son the other night at skating also brought up a similar topic.  There was a girl there who my son has had an interest in for at least a year, but he can’t decide if girls are interesting or not yet (personally I’m relieved he’s not ready to date yet, I know I’m NOT ready for him to date).  He finally decided not to ask her to couples skate with him, but he did buzz by them every time he went around the rink.  Sitting there thinking about it, especially after we both admitted neither one of us wanted to date yet, made me wonder how long this would last….in both of us.  However, it did bring up the question I posited at the beginning of this essay.

I certainly don’t know the answer.  Sometimes I think it sneaks up on you, other times it may just reach up and slap you in the face.  My other question is, what happens to the friendship?  As I said in my bio with (I hope) some modesty, I’m an excellent friend, a good boyfriend, and a difficult husband to live with (but not difficult to love according to my ex’s, but since their my ex’s not entirely sure how to take that).  What is it that happens on the road between friend and boyfriend, boyfriend and husband that changes us?  I used to think that having that little slip of paper called a marriage liscence wouldn’t change anything, we could live together before we got married and when we did it wouldn’t change anything.  Much like other things I’ve been dealing with it doesn’t change anything…and yet, it changes EVERYTHING.

I don’t know exactly where I’m at, at the moment.  I like being free to do what I want, when I want (within the reasonable limits a single dad can manage), but I miss touch.  The caress of a lover, holding hands walking down the street, cuddling in front of a movie or fire.  But that’s not really enough to build a lasting relationship on, but it seems like that’s what I’ve done in the past.  I’ve been friends with my ex’s before we start dating, generally speaking.  But when I start to fall for somebody it tends to be fast, without taking the time to really look at what I’m getting myself into.  I skirt the edge of responsible relationship building, doing enough to get something out of it for me…but do I do enough for the other person?  It hurts to admit that I probably haven’t, after all, as the t-shirt says “The only constant thing in your failed relationships is YOU.”  So the changes need to come from me, to start with me.  I am not solely responsible for my past relationships, but I am for my part in their failure.  The real question I suppose should be, is what have I learned and what positive things can I take from my past, and how can I apply them to my future?

I’m tired of skirting the edge…

Good with words…

Until they matter that is.  How many times do words, phrases, thoughts pass our lips before we’ve had time to truly envision the consequences, good or bad, that could come about because of what we say?  How do we take back hurtful words or share ungaingly parts of ourselves?  Do we know what it means to listen, to share, to think and reflect?  How often do we have “good” conversations anymore as a culture?  I feel fortunate in that I have good relationships with a number of people who enjoy conversing.  Now if only I could have that with my son too.  Part of it I’m sure is perfectly normal – after all, we are getting ready to start the teenage years and how many of us, honestly, really looked forward to talking to our parents when we were that age?

Part of the rest of it however is the awareness of something my son and I both have in common.  An uncomfortableness with really opening up.  I know I know, I blog on here all the time about things that if we were in person I would have a great deal of difficulty sharing…but at least I’m writing down these thoughts, and I know who all reads what on this thing, so the annonymity is preserved, at least superficially.  I swear, talking to my son though…some days it feels like the blind leading the blind.  But at least he sort of talks to me, although I am under no illusion I have anywhere near the full picture of what’s going on in his life.  I suppose part of my question though, is should I?  I need to know he’s safe (enough at least, I remember my own time as a teen) and not doing anything illegal, but where do you draw the line between those things that need to happen to define the limits of self and are necessary to grow up, and those things that cross the line into unacceptable behaviors et al?  That’s the challenge I guess….

Wish I was better with the words.

What is all this for?

What a week…or two…

It’s funny, I go from writing semi-regularly to not writing for six months to writing almost daily and now back to only semi-regularly.  Not sure why that strikes me so, just does.  Lack of sleep probably.  Life has been pretty busy lately, lots of social events, rehearsals, trying to keep my house in order, bible study, having my bathroom torn out and replaced…yeah…good times… But all in all, it has been pretty good.  I have a group of people I care very strongly about who enjoy hanging out with me, playing games, watching movies and just visiting.  I have a faith community that loves, uplifts and supports me.  All of which is very important when I think about strangling my 12 year old…well, okay, so I only occasionally think about strangling him.  He’s basically a good kid, and a fairly typical teenager.

Which is why it’s so distressing at times to see him succumb to peer pressure when it comes to things like dancing, “gay”-bashing, and telling nasty jokes.  Granted, he hasn’t done much of any of this and it’s all still in it’s nascent stages, but dealing with it is a challenge, for him and for me.  The one bright spot in the whole thing is that he doesn’t seem to buy into most of it just yet.  He’s just as likely to be confused by someone saying/doing stuff like this as he is to join in.  I hope to keep him on my side of the fence for this stuff.  Just gonna have to keep at it.

Of course lately the big thing has been dealing with the neighbor’s Nintendo DS.  My son is borrowing it on sort of a long term basis (my neighbor hasn’t really played with it in a couple years) since we do not have one of our own and it’s been a challenge at times as my son does not always remember to deal with the privilege of borrowing it the way he should.  The other day he was going to a church youth rally and my father, who was taking him, asked him three times if he had the DS with him.  My son, having just bought some new game/item for the thing, lied all three times, insisting that “No, I don’t have it with me.”  Mind you he’s not a great liar (see above paragraph about basically good), but he can be convincing enough to get away with things every now and then (also see above about typical teen).  I caught him in the lie later than evening and as a consequence have grounded him from the DS for the last several days.  We haven’t killed each other…yet.  But every day he has asked about playing the thing.  I understand struggling with patience, believe me I do.  I understand feeling like things are unjust and wanting to have my desire filled right then and there.  And I don’t always succeed where I need to.  But I want my son to be better at these things than I and until he goes at least a full day, waking to bed, without asking about it, he’s not going to get it back.

Which brings me to the topic at hand in this.  You know this whole desert thing?  This whole journey, this conversation with God, there are plenty of times I feel like my son.  That I feel like I just found something I want and I want it NOW.  But I can’t have it.  The time is not right.  I’m still too impatient myself.  I’ve asked my friends to assist me in keeping true to the promise I made of staying relationally free for a year and a day, not because there is anything magical in any sense to it (it’s a strongly traditional time for many reasons), but because without that time limit, without that boundary I know I would go out and find a relationship to get into.  And it would not necessarily be healthy or good for me or my son…but I’d do it because I suck at waiting…and I HATE being patient.  But my father challenged me this weekend.  In effect he asked me why I’d chosen the year and a day.  And he reminded me that what was important, was not the length of time, it’s just an arbitrary number, but what the time was supposed to teach me – which is to take time to let things be, don’t force things.  And give time for not just me, but my son, to get used to the idea of me dating again.  I have to be sensitive to not only my own needs but his as well, without letting either one run roughshod over the other…and balancing is really hard to do.  But what else has all this been for if not for something like this?

God did not make my previous marriage fail.  My ex and I did that well enough on our own.  But God has taken the broken pieces of my heart and my life and has promised to create from the shards a new creation in me.  If I will let Him.  If I will be patient.  If I will just let things “BE”.

I’m trying.

It’s hard.

I want more now, but I also want what I see dimly at the journey’s end.  “When [my] willingness to live in sacred community as Christ’s new creation exceeds [my] natural fear of spiritual and relational transformation, [I] will become who… [I am] called to be.”

I AM afraid.  But the call is more insistent now, not any louder, but I am definitely more aware of it.  The call the change, to be reborn.  There is joy in my heart and my life such as I have rarely known.  And if it is His will, if I can let it be for now, God knows the desires of my heart, and the feelings I have for those around me.  God will not leave my side.  I pray that I stay by His.

Anger Management and ADHD

Common Behaviors and Problems of Adult ADHD

The following behaviors and problems may stem directly from ADHD or may be the result of related adjustment difficulties:

• Chronic lateness and forgetfulness.
• Anxiety.
• Low self-esteem.
• Employment problems.
• Difficulty controlling anger.
• Impulsiveness.
• Substance abuse or addiction.
• Poor organization skills.
• Procrastination.
• Low frustration tolerance.
• Chronic boredom.
• Difficulty concentrating when reading.
• Mood swings.
• Depression.
• Relationship problems.

These behaviors may be mild to severe and can vary with the situation or be present all of the time. Some adults with ADHD may be able to concentrate if they are interested in or excited about what they are doing. Others may have difficulty focusing under any circumstances. Some adults look for stimulation, but others avoid it. In addition, adults with ADHD can be withdrawn and antisocial, or they can be overly social and unable to be alone.

So I bolded all the things I either have or have had problems with in my life, currently and in the past.  It’s an interesting issue, realizing you have something, then coming to terms with it.  Both my son and my father have been diagnosed with ADHD and given the checklists out there (such as the one above), it’s not hard to make the logical jump that, given that ADHD is a hereditary disease, I probably have it too.  I really wrestle with this one.  I have struggled all my life with coming to terms that my mother has MS.  When I was younger I used to be ashamed that my mom was different from all the other kids’ moms.  But I still loved her.  As I got older my respect for her strength and the love and support my father gave her, frankly just intimidated me.  They have been an amazing couple and continue to this day, something like 40-odd years.  Impressive in a society in which most of us will be divorced at least once…or twice in some cases…

I know living with two people with ADHD could not have been easy for my ex.  Especially when only one of them admitted to it, and it was not me.  Tonight I lost my temper.  Now, I’d like to excuse this by saying I’m tired, I’ve been working a lot of overtime the last two weeks and it’s been a rather stressful time, all of which is true.  But it does not excuse me yelling at my son.  He was arguing with me about something that happened at school, he’d borrowed a Nintendo DS and the styallus (the control stick) had gotten broken.  I finally yelled at him to “lose the attitude.”  And the voice in which I said it, and only that, along with the look on my face, drove my son away from me crying.  I didn’t call him names or belittle him, nor heaven forbid, did I hit him.  But the voice that came out…it startled even me.  And the crazy thing was as soon as I yelled out, I was over it.  I just let my buttons get pushed.

After about five minutes of him sitting in his room and me cooling off in the kitchen, I went and sat outside his door and apologized.  I was out-of-line for getting that angry, I said.  And I meant it.  He came out and sat in my lap for a while as he calmed down and I cooled off.  We talked, and he apologized for arguing with me.  We’re two of a kind, he and I.  And I have my own struggles with this disease.  I can only admire my parents and hope to eventually do as well…

Because I can…

So this is my second posting of the night, but thought I’d put up some pics I’d found lately that interest me for one reason or another.  I did not do any of these, I just really like ‘em.

Studying scriptures, and ourselves…

So tonight I went to my first scripture study in more than 10 years.  It’s not much, four of my friends and myself in one of their basements for an hour every Wednesday.  But it’s a start.  As one of them said, “I’m a better person when I’m pressed up against the Word” and he’s right.  This path forces me to confront a lot of things about myself.  Like a thought I had the other day that’s not a particularly comfortable thought – I really think a large part of my flirty nature comes from feelings of guilt and shame.  I don’t think I am worthwhile unless I have the attention of an attractive and/or interesting individual (men and women, I flirt with both and find both interesting, although I am strongly hetro).  I don’t know if it’s that I don’t know where these feelings come from or the fact that I’m just not ready to face them yet.  I have a hunch it’s probably the latter.  But the scripture we began with tonight really touched on that issue and I want to share it here:

I Corinthians 12:1-11

Now about spiritual gifts, brothers, I do not want you to be ignorant.  You know that when you were pagans, somehow or other you were influenced and led astray to mute idols.  Therefore I tell you that no one who is speaking by the Spirit of God says, “Jesus be cursed,” and no one can say, “Jesus is Lord,” except by the Holy Spirit.

There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit.  There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord.  There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in men.

Now to each one the manifestation of the Spirit is given for the common good.  To one there is given through the Spirit the message of wisdom, to another the message of knowledge by means of the same Spirit, to another faith by the same Spirit, to another gifts of healing by that one Spirit, to another miraculous powers, to another prophecy, to another distinguishing between spirits, to another speaking in different kinds of tongues, and to still another the interpretation of tongues.  All these are the work of one and the same Spirit, and he gives them to each one, just as he determines. (NIV)

ALL have gifts.  ALL are of worth and equal before God.  I really struggle with that.

I believe it, I hope for it, I desire it…but I fight it.  If I truly accept what it means, than it means that God loves me just the way I am, just because I am and it opens the door for others to love me for similar reasons.  My son is not the only one who struggles with trust.  There is also an inference in this passage, that you have to get out of the way, you have to let go, let the Spirit move in you.  I’m a bit of a control freak.  I don’t like to lose control, I don’t like to give control up.  It’s scary to really understand and accept what it means when this passage and indeed this whole letter talk about how each one of us is needed and gifted and loved before God equally.  Equality is a nice concept, but it’s not a comfortable one in practice.  There are the people we like and the ones we don’t.  There are the stories we like to tell and the ones we don’t want to hear.  We discriminate in large and small ways every day.  And discrimination as a word is not bad.  It means to make a choice.  But before God, there is no choice, God IS Love, God loves us whether or not we want it, whether or not we listen, whether or not we have anything at all to do with God.  God Loves.  We’re the ones with the choice.  To accept the gifts that God has already blessed us with – TO GO FORTH TO OUR COMMUNITY with, or not… and stay at home and do nothing for the greater good of our fellow human beings.

This seems especially appropriate today in light of what happened in Haiti.  What are the gifts we have been given?  How can they impact the people there?  How can our gifts be used to serve those who hurt and are in pain or surrounded by lonliness and loss in our communities?

One thing that struck me tonight as we were discussing this were thoughts for this weekend.  I’ve mentioned it before but I don’t know how recently, but I am the young adult leader at my congregation.  And Saturday is what I hope will be the first of many monthly game nights.  There will be other events, some more specifically focused on church as such, but Saturday is a time for fellowship and fun.  And that’s okay.  That too, is part of building those relationships we are called to bring into being.  My church believes we are called to “Bring forth communities of love, hope, joy and peace.” [okay so actually the wording I think is "Promote communities"  I just like bring forth better]  But can I be more intentional with getting ready for Saturday?  What can I do to make my home a sanctuary for people?  A place to find any or all of those things – joy, love, hope and peace.  What actions do I need to take and just as important, when do I let go, to let the Spirit breathe?  These are the things going to be going through my mind the next few days.  This will be a no kid event, my son is spending the night over at this grandparents, I love him but it’s a little hard to host and harrangue at the same time.  I’m excited for Saturday, I think the people coming are excited.  And I’ll be praying – for joy (which is not the same thing as happiness), peace, love and hope…and to know when to get out of the way and let go…

Yeah… this whole studying thing is gonna be interesting…

Struggling with Single…part II

So I’m throwing this together against the backdrop of hurriedly getting ready for work after waiting outside in the cold for a bus that was almost 20 minutes late, again.  I have had a great time since MY new year began last Friday.  I’ve gone to see Where the Wild Things Are, which I totally recommend for anyone who loved that book as a child, went roller skating again for the first time in FOREVER, been hanging out with people I love and care about and have been staying up waaaaaaay to late talking to my friends…which leads me back to the title of the thing.

I have set for myself a time line of a year and a day from the day the divorce became official before I start dating again.  January 8th, 2011 to be exact…it’s a Saturday, go figure.  And yes, I had already looked it up…  I don’t mean this time line to be an artificial construct, but whether I want it or not (NOT!) my son and I need some more time together and apart before I start looking for someone to share our lives with.  To share my life with.  I’m not ready for another relationship, I just got out of one and shortly before that, ended the unofficial one that had diverted my attention from this journey for the last six months (not maliciously I might add, we still care for each other, but we are just heading in very different ways with our lives).  So, where does that leave me?

I LOVE to flirt.

I enjoy talking to attractive young women who for reasons I’m still a little fuzzy on, find me interesting and even funny.  But where do I draw the line?  I’ve asked my friends to be blunt with me and help keep me single for this year, for although I’m bound and determined to do it myself, I also know my weaknesses.  I struggle with being single.  I am not a huge fan of being alone, I like surrounding myself with friends, family and loved ones, a real pack animal.  But this journey requires sacrifice from me, at least for a while, and I can’t say I really want to, but that would not be true.

I WANT something more.

I WANT something better.

I want to BE a better person…and this journey is a part of that process.  I know if and when I meet the right person, if they are there, they will understand this journey and support me on it…but I don’t know if that’s better or worse.  Like the old prayer says, God grant me patience but grant it to me quickly…

I can’t rush this…

It HAS to move forward at its own pace.  I need to allow my son time to come to terms with the fact that he IS loved and trusted and allow him time to build that trust with people again, before asking him to start building it with someone in particular.  It still breaks my heart that he felt he had to ask me to find someone who “actually likes ME” next time I start seriously looking for a partner.  He’s not ready.  I’m not ready, I just want to be.

I need to be friends first.

I need to have time first.

I need to have space first.

And my son needs those things just as much as I.  He and I are both on this journey, albeit, I was the one who started it all.  I know in my head I can forgive myself…I still don’t feel it in my heart.  I love my son, and don’t want any more heartache to fill his life.  He’s had enough.  Me?  I’m just a glutton for punishment, but I’m tired of my punishment hurting the people I care most for around me.  Maybe this time I’ll learn…

But I still struggle with being single…

Old memories

I found my diary a couple of days ago.  My actual physical diary.  I’d been talking to my son about writing down some of the things he’d been struggling with, his feelings of betrayal, loss of trust, and abandonment.  We’d talked about ways we coped with what has happened and I’d been sharing about my diary and about this blog and he had stated that he didn’t know what to write about in his, if he started one.  So I shared with him the very first entry of my diary, from March 29th, 1991:

Dear Diary,

today was a bummer of a day.  we just left Bizmart and a totally awsome turbo graphic 16 for $125.00!!  & my dad wouldn’t buy it.

p.s. the day wasn’t a total bummer because I hit the jackpot, found money, and get to go to C.P. [Children's Palace - btw] if dad doesn’t stay too long (he he ha he won’t!!)

p.p.s. He did!!

total bummer

After sharing this with him he had less trepidation about writing something down.  If I can just get him started writing something, to get in the habit of putting his emotions down on paper…it may not be a perfect solution but it would be a start to perhaps allow him some healing as well.  So since I hadn’t read my diary since I last put an entry in it I’ve been reading it off and on, skipping parts and going back to others.  The last entry in the thing however still strikes me.  Not the whole thing, but here is the last part of the last entry in my first diary, dated Jan. 6th, 1999:

Have you ever seen a man so consumed w/appearances that he even orders his own thoughts as to make them more poetic?  The thoughts that one utters when one is alone…?  I have, I see him every day in the bathroom mirror and we cross paths as we get ready for bed.  But I don’t really know him.  Or understand him.  His loss, his hurt, his anger.  Maybe one day I will.  Either that or maybe I’ll become the man on the other side of the mirror.  Never can say…

It’s interesting how things come full circle.  I may have come back to a similar place, a single father,nervous and unsure of what the future holds, but I have gotten to know the man in the mirror.  I have become the man in the mirror, and the man looking in.  It has not been easy blending the two, but I am who I am.  I am loved for who I am, I am forgiven, and I know my boundaries.  My need to be needed and to control others has made my life unmanageable.  I can let go, usually.  I am at peace with being alone – most of the time.  I am not perfect.  And those in my life don’t have to be.  There is a new day dawning and God walks with my son and I.  We don’t always realize it.  We don’t always want it.  But God is there.  And God will not leave us.

It has been hammered home how much my life means to the people involved in it.  People I am ashamed to say I have not taken the time to get to know as well as I should have, have reached out to me, via emails, Facebook, in person, to share their love and support with me.  And I am so grateful and so thankful.  I love you all.  And for those who have ridden this journey with me from the beginning… well, there really isn’t anything else that needs to be said is there?

And with that, I wanted to share the first poem I ever copied down in my journal.  It was from a book of Favorite American Poetry, a book my mother owned and for all I know, still does.  And a friend recently sent me a power point with the first verse of it, something else that was a blast from my past, but I think is very appropriate here:

Love

I love you, Not only for what you are, But for what I am, When I am with you

I love you, Not only for what you have made of yourself, But for what, You are making of me

I love you, For the part of me that you bring out

I love you, For putting your hand, Into my heaped-up heart, And passing over all the foolish, weak things, That you can’t help dimly seeing there

And for drawing out, Into the light, All the beautiful belongings That no one else had looked Quite hard enough to find.

I love you, because you Are helping me to make Of the lumber of my life, Not a tavern, But a temple, Out of the works of my every day, Not a reproach, But a song

I love you, because you have done, More than any creed could have done, To make me good, And more than any fate could have done, To make me happy

You have done it Without a touch, Without a word, Without a sign You have done it by being yourself Perhaps that is what Being a friend means after all.