Month: May 2016

Posted on

A New Pilgrimage

A few months ago I watched a movie called The Way. The movie is about a man who’s son was killed just as he was beginning a pilgrimage in France called “el Camino de Santiago,” or the Way of St James. While he is picking up his son’s ashes, something comes over him and he decides to take the pilgrimage himself and to bring his son’s ashes with him. While on this journey, he decides to scatter his son’s ashes at different spots. He meets new people, some of which join him on his journey, others merely flit in and then out again, like shooting stars in the night sky. It’s a great movie and I found it truly inspiring for a variety of reasons.

One reason is that I feel as though I’ve always been on a pilgrimage of some sort or an other. I’ve always been a thinker of things, looking for something, trying to explain life. Or at least my life. I realize that what I’m looking for is internal, though I’ve certainly looked for it in external things. Alcohol, drugs, music, sex, you name it, I’ve pretty much tried it. But aren’t we all looking for something? Could be. Sometimes it seems to me like a lot of people aren’t looking for anything. Or perhaps they have already found it. Or maybe they’ve given up. I feel like I’ve always had questions about life, that I wanted to know more. But I’ve limited myself. I decided earlier this year that I wanted to travel more and that I’d start this year. It’s important to me, important to my life that it happens. I realize that I’m at a crossroads in my life and I find it funny because, even though I’m at a crossroads, it feels like there is really only one path for me to take, the one that leads to growth and change. So far this year I’ve already taken two trips to San Diego, which were great, but I lived there for so long it’s like going home, it’s not the same. I also took a trip to Florida to visit my parents. Once again, great, but not new.

I’ll admit it. I want to travel to places to which I’ve already been. Some of them are places that I went when I was a child and I want to see them with adult eyes, and maybe introduce my son to them as well. There’s some nostalgia there, but for some reason I feel like going to an old place first will help jump start me to visiting new places. And I want to see new places in the world, and, even more important, I want my son to see them. I want him to know that there is more to life than what’s in the U.S. I want him to know there is a great big world out there and, really, our job is to try and make that world a better place. I have fears and I have dreams. I have spent a lot of my life ruled by my fears and it’s gotten me to where I am. It’s not a bad place, it’s been a struggle at times. There have been good times, some not so good. I’ve grown and changed. Haven’t we all? But I still feel like there is more to this world and I want to see it. I want to show that world to my son. But in order to do that, I need to be able to see it myself. And to truly do that, I need to grow.

One of the things I found so amazing about The Way is that I had never heard of Camino de Santiago. I had heard about the Appalachian Trail, the Pacific Crest Trail, and many smaller trails throughout America, but not about the Camino de Santiago. It made me realize how little of this world I really know. After all these years, I have finally just began to see how sheltered I’ve been. I’m a middle-age, middle-class, white male who lives in America. I am the epitome of privilege. I’ve spent part of my life being ashamed of that reality and part of my life accepting it. I can’t change what I am, but I can try and change how I see things. I can try and see things from other people’s perspectives, to understand their perspective. I see travel as one way to help me do that…while also accepting the very real fact that being able to travel itself is a privilege. Down the rabbit hole we go… I guess what I’m really getting at is that the best way I know how to change the world is to try and be a better person and to try to raise my son to be a better person as well. I know that there are many ways to do that, that travel is just one of them, but it’s a journey I plan to begin.

Posted on

Coming Apart at the Seams

There are days, days like today, where some moments I feel like the Grinch whose, “small heart grew three sizes that day.” Then a whipsaw runs through my heart and tears it into pieces… which once again grow. As those pieces grow, I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams and I don’t know how I can possibly contain both the love and heartache that I feel. I want to somehow hold onto my Self, to be sheltered and safe. But I refuse to hold back my own growth. I want to be a better man, for me, for my son, but also because I am in love. I haven’t told her yet, I hesitated. I’m afraid. While I understand that fear can rip things apart, it’s tough to get those old wounds out of the way. I wish I could go back in time and meet this woman as the fresh-faced young man I was. I can’t, and that’s ok. Who I am now is a summary of those experiences. It’s made me who and what I am, hurts, joys, warts and all. So I hesitated, the moment was lost. Now I wait for the “right” time. When is that? Who the fuck knows? I don’t want it to be cheap and I don’t want it to be forced. That last one should be easy, there are so moments during a conversation with her that I feel love. She’s beautiful, inside and out. I know she’s not perfect, and she’s made it clear she’s difficult. Fact is, I haven’t really seen that side of her yet. I’m sure it’s true, shit who isn’t difficult from time to time? But the truth is, it’s been easy. At least easy with her.

I find I have to remind myself to get out of the way, to let it be easy and don’t complicate things. To know when I need to speak my truth, yet be aware when silence is best. Why is that so hard? As I’ve gotten older I’ve found it easier to find that line and I’m grateful to be able to see that growth in me. In the past, I’ve more often been in trouble for the things I don’t say, than the things I do say. That sometimes feels like a character flaw, but is it? Or is it simply my nature, to be more reserved? Let’s call it two sides of the same coin. That I’m naturally more reserved, but can quickly move into being shut down. My own version of “out of control” looks very controlled. It has taken me a lot to get to the point where I don’t shut down when things get tough/stressful in a relationship. I think that shutting down may be part of being an introvert. I need time to process and work things through on my own, without being bothered. I feel like the need I have to process things is accepted in this relationship, instead of just tolerated. It’s a subtle difference, but it’s a big one. Which is another reason for the love I feel.

The other side of what I currently feel comes from having made the decision to find my dog a new home. It feels horrible, like I’ve failed him, like I’m a failure. Part of the feeling comes from a belief I held that there was no good reason to give an animal up, that once you welcomed them into your home they were your responsibility, your family. I guess the truth is I’ve judged people  who gave up their animals. And once I found myself in the position where I had to make the choice to find a new home for my dog, I began to judge myself. I still do think there are good reasons and bad reasons to give up an animal, but the truth is, you can’t judge a decision until you’ve been in the situation yourself. And never say never. Never is an absolute, like always. It’s funny that I see couples talk that way to each other, usually in frustration, “You never take out the trash,” or “You always nag me.” Those examples of not using never and always I can see, I can understand. It would appear there are other areas in life where you shouldn’t use never or always. At least, that’s what I’m learning.

While I don’t like to admit it, there is a part of me that has judged others. The funny thing about judgment is that if you judge others, you most likely also judge yourself. We are our own worst critics, right? But that’s a hard way to live, believe me. I’ve had a lot of practice in not judging, and I’ve gotten a lot better over the years. It’s hard not to judge. We see other people who are better looking, have better grades in school, make more money or have the “perfect” family. So we compare, and sometimes we judge. There is a difference, you know. You’re comparing if you can sit back and not be emotionally involved. It’s simply looking at facts. But when you tie emotion or worth to that comparison, it becomes judgment.

I’m not sure where judgment comes from, whether it’s inherent within us, part of our culture, or simply handed down from our parents. I do know that I see it a lot. I see it in our tabloids, I see it in our cultural race and gender arguments. I see it when someone types FOMO (fear of missing out). I don’t like it when I see it in myself, but I’ve always judged myself pretty harshly : ) What I do know is that I can work to make the world a better place simply by not judging myself. If I can accept myself as I am, I’ll be better able to accept others as they are.

When I started writing this, I’ll be honest and say I had no idea where it was going to go. I just knew I had these emotions within me, that I had something to say. It’s amazing to me how somethings come together, for it seems to me that with less judgment, there is room for more peace and love in my life. I’ll take it.