Standing On The Edge

The job is done,

there is a light ahead,

a bit of peace,

planning for a soft landing

the harsh reality of this

reason

our own examined purpose

seems less imperative

 

Watching the rains today

falling forever

a reminder of a constant

unlike the streaking sunlight

of a gorgeous spring day,

rains are fallible

they leave a mark,

a damp reminder

of what is what may be

what the afterward might see.

 

Could it be so simple

as watching a spring storm

cover the earth around us

allowing life to grow

when inside

the mind seems to seek

any obstacle to suggest

our lives that matter

are lives of little …

or is it part of some

chemical imbalance

like the heads say,

a reasoning that could be

a wild hair

rather than a logical

synapse that suggests

the true meaning of perfection

is

a quiet response

to the mystique we know to be

the human condition

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My Personal Insomnia

Step into my world

a man

frazzled yet still

a remarkable breather

able to stand

to negotiate

appreciate some aspect

of life.

 

Not perhaps until the day

for tonight,

his life remains behind

invisible bars

that only allow him

to remind,

to replay,

to re-evaluate

and always the same thing

every time

no solution,

only another night,

he won’t sleep

he might rather weep.

 

The insomniac on so many

levels,

this one though has a simple

solution,

stop checking for the same outcome

the clicking, the wandering, the wishing,

an inevitable drain

in the human psyche

 

until finally he might realize

tomorrow is another day,

oh my

life really is a sad cliche.

A Canyon Rite of Passage

the reality of time

outtakes and fantasy

easy climbs sheer cliffs

human mortality

tested in a tourist

manner of conceit.

 

One afternoon,

a quiet gentleman

decided his time

an essential promise

reached its end

how easy the edge.

 

Standing alone

he imagined

just how far

might be the land

would they even know

those that had …

 

A silent reckoning

No one would speak

again of the torturous

nature of losing hope,

and instead,

instead.

 

He walked away

head held high.

A Teenager Committed Suicide

Yesterday, a former student took his own life. The circumstances are horrific to realize that life had come to such terms. It is also ironic for many people including myself. We all have dark moments that cause us to imagine a deadly option. This young man somehow felt there was no one he could speak to that might help him through his crisis. In my life the issue of suicide has always been thought to be a cop-out and an easy option, a valueless choice for those around their lives.

I have students crying in the hallways today. I had a student contact me yesterday evening in tears – we spoke for several minutes, and I invited him to come by. This situation has impacted a lot of people including those that have the feelings themselves. Nobody really knows what a person is going through when they choose this deadly way to stop the pain. Nobody knows the tears in the final moments because we just don’t understand. I do.

I believe suicide is a mental illness beyond the circumstances of finality for a person suffering from inevitable mortality. That is the only time when such an act seems feasible. I say that again knowing in my own life there are times when the world I live in becomes exhausting and I no longer like the loneliness I feel. I am especially mortified by this situation with our student. He touched a lot of lives. I watched him laugh both in the classroom and with his friends. I watched him be successful in his love of sports in the events he participated. I watched people groom his life.

Today, I see the outcome. I sense the family and their reaction not as a close friend but as a person that appreciates the grief they feel. I understand why students are at a loss in their actions as they try to wrap their heads around his loss.

Suicide is something that everyone needs to acknowledge is a terrible way to end a person’s life. If someone reaches out be there for them, because the moment you take that for granted they may take action on something they didn’t have a chance to rethink or turn away from the act. Sadly one must though realize the end game is not their responsibility. A call, a visit, a wellness check may be all that is needed. Let them know they are not alone and they have a possible firm ledge to step back onto, let them find their own professional guidance.

Do not abandon a person when they are at their seeming lowest. Look for the signs and be there no matter the effect the notion might have on your own life.

The victim needs your real love.

The Scrutiny of Self Loathing

People generally believe we bring our pain upon ourselves, the decisions, choices we make. As true as that might be we want also to be responsible for shaking off the doom and gloom that keeps us down. There the difficult task arises in how we acknowledge our own fear in moving forward when caught in the web of self-deceit. We convince ourselves through various measures we are destined to live this way.

Take addiction for a moment and identify patterned behavior. The addict is easily drawn toward what feels good, the easiest route to pleasure. It is more often than not an addict’s choice to stay within the boundary of self loathing than give themselves a fighting chance of a good life. The drug, the habit, the glass of scotch, far too easy to attain and outweigh the risk of facing the contempt their lives become under the influence of a self-destructive pursuit they are unable to see until it explodes their lives and those around them.

A choice also has to be made by the messenger. I choose to write this why, because I have seen its impact on the lives of those around me? I also see on a daily basis the nature of addiction and how it determines day to day decisions in my own life. Not the observation of a friend, me.

On any given day I can be wrapped up in memory of poor decisions I made years ago that haunt me still today, most people would say, let it go you were a kid way back then. That’s true but I still made the choice.

Today I think about self-loathing and the impact it has on my life. Last night in my episodic frame of mind I thought about solutions that did simply scare the hell out of me. Too often we are in the middle of something and rather than face it we literally swallow it and move on. I choose to face it but I have no false pretense of an easy road ahead, I made a phone call last night that helped me move beyond a state of mind that was dragging me down so fast I was drowning before my ankles ever felt the water. Then in a bizarre dream overnight I was holding a device in my hand on stage that blew up and I was suddenly gasping for air in and out of consciousness. I take some dreams for granted, that one not so much.

Perhaps a metaphorical bomb in a crazy dream is what it takes to realize sometimes a jumpstart is needed to feel better and take action. For me self-loathing is no fun. I will choose a different path.

For the reader I ask two favors – one that you might take from this story some benefit for your own life and two that you raise your awareness around family, friend, colleague, neighbor and offer a hand rather than reject that reach with our well planted bootstrap society. Sometimes the boots will not go on.

This post is for everyone and is not about you!

Silent Moment

When just a glance

offers no chance.

 

When a quiet remember

ignites angry ember

 

While offering some solution

quickly dies our absolution

 

With every offered ideal

there seems a ready deal

 

I walked inside a mirage the other day,

I thought i had sort of found my way

yet I was schooled

nobody fooled

there was still some recompense

to help me certain not make any sense

of the world around me

the choices astound when we

 

lose our way

step away

 

for the light of some distant thoroughfare

would shadow reality if their own fare

were an ultimatum that offered choice

an opportunity to personally rejoice

while the other, the saboteur seems an outlier

quickly thought to be just that suggested crier.

 

While in truth the merits of one

would that we were never done.

The Words That Speak

I read a poem today,

talked about saving a life,

that words could

in such a remarkable way,

cause someone to

rethink their moment,

that impulse,

the frightened reality

the edge.

 

I wondered about the beauty of a word

 

We might easily write about death,

oh the beauty of their lives,

the regret of time,

the nature of loneliness

how simple it is

when described

yet complicated when

lost.

 

I wondered about the beauty of a word

 

How does someone decide

to listen

what is the correct cadence

of wanting a wandering soul

to find their way

inside the mystique of

questioning

the human condition.

 

I wondered about the beauty of a word

 

I stood along the railroad tracks

watched the lights brighten

the clicking of the clack,

the deafening horn,

I watched the light of tomorrow

suddenly set in the western sky,

and then I stepped away …

 

I wondered about the beauty of a word.