still beating

im exhausted. i am. but i guess, in a way, its a good thing.

there are things you realize only when you’re drained. things that come to you only when you’ve exhausted your internal reserves. things you learn only when you drop your guard, simply because you haven’t the strength to hold it any longer.

sometimes those things we learn shake us to our core. sometimes those things destroy us. we may realize that, what we’ve run so hard from, is inside of us. or, we may see that we really have lost our way…

other times, the things we learn shake us, but they do not destroy us.

maybe we realize that our heart is healing. that spring is coming… that this winter of the soul that has lasted for far to long… is not forever. we begin to see the ice melt… and the promise of spring rains brew on the horizon.

our heart begins to beat again. and even if the first thing we feel, is how truly broken it is… we’re thankful. because for so long we thought we’d never see it reach out for someone else. we’re thankful to know we can still feel. still love. and still desire love in return. and even if that love isnt returned, there is still promise. because we realize we’re not totally broken. we realize that there is still destiny for us.

we realize that love is possible. and even if we dont know where our heart will find its match, we sit in thankful silence…. because we know that our heart is still beating.

and i didnt even realize it

there is something to be said for having fatherly companionship; for having that one person that you can always turn to.  someone who has walked the road you’re walking.  who has fought the demons you’re fighting, someone who can tell you that all this… is worth the cost.

the confidence of the 20something male is fragile.  we know, just know we’re born for something more than just the 8-5.  we’re born for more.  we know it.  we’re born with a gaping hole where a mission is supposed to fit.  where a destiny is supposed to be birthed, nurtured and brought to fruition.  we’re born with the capacity, the very need for a calling bigger than we could ever be.  we’re born with the need for….

a battle.  a war to fight, and a woman to fight for.

i know, it sounds stupid.  and if you’re really ‘forward thinking’, it probably sounds constricting, cookie cutter, and very old fashioned.  i dont care.  go read somewhere else.

our hearts are designed to need these things.  we need a calling to drive us.  battles, not only to fight, but to fight beside our fellow man, and develop friendships in the trenches.

we’re born with the need for someone to fight for.

and when this need, this missing piece of our existence is not completed… when we’re not shown how to fight, how to war, how to be a man… when the crucial stages are missed… we end up…. we end up 27, feeling like we’re much much younger.

im reading the new book from John Eldridge, The Way of the Wild Heart.  and in it… he mentions how the world is full of “self made men”.  he talks about how this phrase is supposed to make us men, feel better about ourselves… about who we’ve become.

in reality, if you ask any ’self made man’ how he feels about that statement… if he answers you honestly, he’ll tell you it simply means that he was never shown how to be a man.  and somehow, he was lucky enough to stumble across a part of the answer.

i dont know if there is pride attached to that title.  because im learning its not something to be proud of.

when you’re not shown how to to this, when you aren’t handed the history of manhood… when you’re chance at growing up the same way that, for millenia, boys have become men, something in you breaks.

and even though your age declares you a man.  even though you can talk ‘car talk’, and you go to work every day… even though you act and dress the part… something inside of you never moves beyond that moment.  that moment that you realize you dont have what other kids received.  you were never encouraged, never told to dream, never told that you could be president or an astonaut.  you were always told you weren’t good enough.  didnt look good enough, didnt weigh the right amount.  you were the source of problems, and never a source of blessing…

when you grow up knowing that, something inside dies.  and without knowing anything more to do, you let it die.  and you deal.

you become excellent at dealing.  at adapting.  at finding your own little world, that you can control, and living in it.

and somehow you wake up one morning, and your 27, and you realize that a part of you…. isnt.  this part of you is still yearning, longing for the edification and support, for the love, guidance and leadership that your father was supposed to have given you.

where do you go with that?  who do you take that too and say, “this isnt right, fix it”.  what do you do with the realization that in all the things you want, in all the issues one may have in life, in all the heartache that exists inside of your soul, all you want is memories?  memories of playing catch.  of learning how to talk to girls.  memories of hiking, changing the oil, of being a son.

wow… thats it. and i didnt even realize it.

all i wanted, was memories of being a son.

i want it back

we grow up having to be taught every thing we know. every single thing we come to believe as truth, we must be taught.

faith and doubt; fear, joy and pain… expectation, and never expecting again… we must be taught all of them.

faith may be nothing more, than allowing yourself to step into the child that you once were. when you had yet to learn to doubt. when expectations were the best thing in the world… and you knew, you just knew that there was nothing that your Father could not do.

there was no wrong so wrong, nothing so damaged, no hurt so painful that Dad could not fix. He was Superman, Batman and Hulk Hogan all in one. and He was your hero. and you believed with all your heart that your father would never ever, cause you harm.

i dont know where im going with this, other than to say that somewhere between knowing that as the foundation for who i was, and turning 27, i lost that.

and i want it back.

incomplete

revelation comes at a cost. always. it doesnt matter if we chose to react to the revelation or not. either way, it costs. we either chose to react to the revelation, and are hopefully bettered by it, or we chose to ignore the information that we now know… and we chose to not change. and life continues as it always was.

we either live with the results and changes of doing something with what we have learned; or, we live, wondering for the rest of our lives what could have been… had we simply chosen to do something with that revelation.

what the hell am i doing? am i really going to go ‘there’?

now im sitting here asking myself if i really want to do this? to go into my own heart and look at the wounds, the pain, the infection. do i really want to lift the charade and look underneath? am i willing to look beyond the paper mache mask ive created?

i honestly dont see how i have a choice. not if i ever want to love again. not if i ever want to be perfectly honest with someone, and be perfectly ok with it. because right now, i cant love the way i want to.

i grew up basing my self worth on what other people thought of me. of how much they loved me. this was the driving force behind almost all of my close relationships. i wanted to be the best friend, brother, son, boyfriend possible. because maybe if i was the best, they wouldnt leave me. maybe my friend, sibling, parent, girlfriend would love me.

this wasnt real love. it never was. it was my own feelings of worthlessness driving me to do ’something’. it was self preservation, masked as love. i was so preoccupied with doing all i could; so that, maybe they’d pretend to not see the mask i wore, and love me anyway.

and now? now im confronted with something new. with some one… new. with the possibility of a great, life long friendship… and all this comes up.

and i am forced to know that if i dont deal with my own short comings, if i dont own up to my own issues, then i will simply follow the path ive gone down every other time. and my efforts, this, i, will fail.

i cant do that. i cant do that to myself, and it is in no way fair to this other person.

someone once said, ’sometimes you have to leave, to find out who you really are’. i think im finding myself there.

im finding myself standing on the edge of who i am, deeply desiring to jump. to free-fall. to feel the rush of adrenaline, hear the roar of the wind, and the freedom of not holding the cliff wall with white knuckles.

i think that this one post is an echo of what the rest of my life is going to be like. either im going to pursue my dreams, or slowly resign myself to a life of white picket fences. a life of safety. a life devoid of laughter, friendship, hardship and joy. a life devoid of love.

i wrote all of the above earlier this afternoon. and ive just been sitting on it. it feels somehow incomplete. or maybe, its because i feel somehow incomplete. i guess thats because i am huh?

incomplete. broken. imperfect. blemished.

so what does that mean? where does this leave me? honestly, i dont know. i know i cant live this way. i dont deserve it; and neither does this person.

how this is all supposed to happen? i have no clue. what its going to look like? or how im supposed to get from this realization, to action, and hopefully, in the future… wholeness? i dont know. i honestly dont.

but this is me. telling the world my revelation. and i hope, that you will see me react to this. you will see me learn, be changed, and be made whole.