The World In The Life Of A Guy – Part 10 – Honor and Pride

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I don’t know when it starts, this idea of honor and pride, it may have started as a seed sown when we are young, or the side effect of hormones that change our bodies. Either way, there is a force that comes to us, that drives us to do crazy things in the name of an invisible force that binds us to a sense of self.
Honor and pride, it allows us to stay consistent in a world that pushes us to care less and prevents us from giving in to the passing beliefs, alternatively, it makes us rigid and at times makes us incompatible with one another.
Pride is a force that governs our image and view of ourselves and how we decide to maneuver through the world.  I am not saying that it is only a male thing, many women have pride of their own.  It is though, so ingrained in how guys are raised, that image of pride and yourself matters and any attempt to belittle or harm pride become a direct attack on the person.  It is in feelings of pride weakness and insecurity that we put up barriers for ourselves lock out the potential of growth and change. Instead, it acts like a cornered mouse, lashing out at anything that opposes it. Pride is good, too much of it is terrible. The way I see it is if pride gets in the way of you living your life, then what is the point of that pride, it delivers nothing with the promise of nothing but a story and a good feeling that resolves to nothing.  For me, this sense of pride should be abandoned if it sets out to hurt others or ourselves because pride should be a way for us to stand up straight in the face of adversity, not to become living statues of a time long past.
Honor is a harder thing to dissect.  Honor is thought to be a warrior’s trait.  Everyone can have honor, but for girls and guys these pieces of honor stem from different places.  Honor for us comes from the adherence to rules and do right. Honor is built and maintained, though at times can be associated with the rigidity of bureaucracy a slowness of the old way.  No one gets mad at honor for honor’s sake, they get angry at the close adherence to these rules that make men do outrageous things.  Honor’s purpose is not to be followed but to guide. Not to merely act but to reflect on the world at large and ask what it is and why something should be.  Honor should be adhered to only when you know its purpose and is used to protect and not to harm.
Honor and pride, though sometimes unspoken and not formally taught, we find ourselves here through watching and learning from those who came before.  They are interesting because they tie to who we are and what it means to be us. Honor and pride are at the core of who we are and make us do the things we do.

What Happens If I Am Right?

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I wanted to preface this post by saying that this post I wrote over a year and a half ago and just never got around to publishing because it had no real conclusion. The post reflects my feelings in a darker time, and it was inspired by a sense of hopelessness that came about from reflecting on both the end of a relationship and the fear the knowledge of the numerous reasons I was left behind. The reason I am posting this now because it fits the philosophy of why I started this blog in the first place, to both practice writing and to open myself up and talk about all myself.  I have found my answer which I write at the end, but without the journey, I can’t have come to the conclusion.

This mad dash towards the truth, to know, to learn this insatiable appetite that pushes me forward. Finding out about people, things, and places. How the cogs turn in this great machine that we built together.  Many have found this pursuit of knowledge to be crippling, dark and foreboding.  It has a way of changing people, making people cynical towards our fellow man. The more they find the twists and turns, the realization that people will not do the thing you think is best no matter how much you talk to them.  The actions were taken in the shadow, or even worse the done in the light for everyone to see. It sometimes feels like opening Pandora’s box and releasing the final scourge upon the earth, the antithesis of hope.

I see people become jaded, learn to hate and despise one another.  A lot of what psychology says about people is that they will do things to lessen punishment and maximize reward. Find ways to make the world better for them, to cope with their surroundings and when those surroundings clash, the meeting of these two opposite winds create tornadoes for all to see. Destroying and constructing building debris for all to see. People become “realists” seeing people as they are. Creating briefly illusions that manifest themselves as the worst part of someone, the worst way they can act. Seeing this person as a devil or a demon in human skin, here to rid you of your happiness and joy.  It is easy to lose hope when it feels like no one cares and everyone is out on their own. The coldness that would seep in is unbearable, finding that even wrapping yourselves in clothes will not remove that chill.

I can’t believe that. I want to know better. I think people aren’t just out there to ruin lives, but perhaps I am wrong. The heart beating in my chest calls out to bring things up to a higher calling. A seminal feeling that leads me to hope, makes me walk through the storms.  Calls for me to confront these actions give the reasons and know how to show that there is no boogie man. I am human like everyone else, no better, no worse. I do things because I that’s how I learned to.

I am lost in this.

 

I found my answer; I wish I had been more solid in it before it became something I had to face.  It doesn’t matter if  I am right if I can guess the outcome or foresee the future, its what we do with that knowledge that makes the difference.  I found out I was right, that some of the reasons I had feared about the end of my relationship came to pass, but with that came an understanding. An understanding that knowing and reflecting on this doesn’t give me peace. Its being able to let go and forgive which reflection brings, that give me peace.  What use is being able to see the future and not be able to change it? Live I now in the present and focus on what have because if I don’t I’ll miss out on all the people and things who are absolutely beautiful around me. 

Chasing A Dream, Where Ever It May Go

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“It’s the possibility of having a dream come true that makes life interesting.”
― Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist

I know recently, I have been complaining a lot about the fact the I’ve been tired, but I want to take a moment to reflect on the reason I am exhausted in the first place.

I’ve been busy, busy with various new experiences life as seen to throw my way.  Mostly work, to be honest, but its weird, this is never the type of working experience that I have ever had.  It’s this thing where I almost crave it.  I work and act as if all myself want and needs to.  I’ve had a lot of jobs and been through a lot of schooling, and this is the first time I’ve really felt this way about all the things sitting in front of me. It’s like a high mountain to climb, and I’m mountain climber trying to traverse it.

My days have been filled with staying at school for more than 12 hours at a time.  I check each day what my home door to door time is and each day I realize its extending.  At these points, I would find that I would be tired of going, tired of continually having to push myself more to get done everything I want to do. Each opportunity feels as if it is a whetstone, sharpening my the tools I will use to push forward in my life.  It feels as if this moment, my body feels live so that it wants to keep pushing farther and further than I ever had before.

Maybe its perspective, the two years away from school has definitely changed how I approach education.  Though I always knew I would continue down this path, I feel more passionate about my choice to do so.  Unrestricted, more sure-footed about where I want to go and what I want to do.   It keeps me vigilant about my opportunities, keeps me actively striving for more, until I find myself staying up late, working long hours to complete something.

My body needs rest as it starts to ache all over.  My eyes begin to burn from all the monitors and from being awake so long during the day.  My mind sits in a fog by the time I get home, just trying to digest everything that just happened. I have no time, and yet I keep going in the hopes that I will catch up in the long run.  My belly runs empty, and I have to remind myself to eat enough for the amount I expend. And yet, I love these moments, because it feels like I am finally pushing myself to do something great.

There a danger to it, with the new feeling comes cautionary tales of both burn out and breaking.  If I push too hard too fast, I can break down my body and my health to the point where my body refuses me, and I have to stop the obsession. The second is set this fire for much for too long runs the risk of turning the subject I have fallen in love with into a bastion of resentment.  Begining to internalize the little things and grow tired of the subject and the place I am to work.  As always, it’s about the balance of these things, to keep my mind healthy and my ridiculous actions in check.

I want to push myself so I can grow strong under the opportunities that I have been presented. By the end of this short two years, I want to have the strength to tackle the next five and the knowledge of how to get stronger for the next 60 and beyond. Every day is a new challenged and all I want to do is live up to it.

An Investment In Self Depreciating Returns

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You believe you are who you say you are most of the time. It’s how we intercede with the world, and it’s subtle at times because things slip out we never really give much thought to.  That’s why in observing recently I found something I am not too happy with.  It’s this attitude that focuses on whenever I feel awkward or in the spotlight I resort to self-deprecation as a means of humor.  Which ordinarily isn’t an issue but its comes to mind now because I realize its a crutch I resort to when I find myself in a situation that might just be better suited with a pause.  I attack my self to attack my point to avoid conflict of any type.   To make sure I don’t look too big for my britches or arrogant.  All I am doing at the end is destroying both my self-value and smoothing out the potential nuances that never need smoothing.

I don’t know why I do this, its a relic of the past I’m certain but why does it still echo into the present with such volume.  I don’t like doing it, and when I catch myself in the act, I feel as if I am trying to keep myself in a particular negative state of equilibrium.  It’s silly and yet, it’s almost subconscious.  I wonder when this piece of myself started to grow, and give rise to such a nasty habit but I hope to change it.

The world is hard enough as it is without us bringing ourselves down.  It doesn’t stand in confidence, these lowly parts of ourselves, but it keeps us from having to fall when reality kicks us in the face.  That philosophy of keeping ourselves on the ground just because we are afraid it might hurt too much to flight doesn’t actually get us anywhere worth going.  I don’t want to be arrogant but I do want to know myself enough to be confident in my thoughts.  I want for who I am not to need to worry about putting in these words to into my statements to soften the blow.  I should be bold in my statements but also bold in my willingness to accept being wrong when I am.

Progress on ourselves in an ever increasing thing.  Today it’s this, not to depreciate myself, because ultimately it’s an investment in myself and who I will be in the future.

To: Halloween

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Dear Halloween,

I know it’s been a while, I see you every year as we pass by each other and we say hi and exchange small talk. It doesn’t feel real anymore, more like we’re just going through the motions
I know we used to be friends when I was little, I was excited to see you every time I got the chance, but the moment my teen years came around, my dad didn’t want me hanging around you anymore, so we stopped seeing each other.
By the time I finally saw you again I, never knew what to say, so much time had passed, and it felt like we’re in different places.
I want you to know I’ve never had a problem with you. Truth be told I rather like when you’re around, its a lot more lively, and it makes people happy. Though we really didn’t hang out, I knew somewhere deep down we were still on friendly terms.  I know I really dress up to your parties, but at least we always had fun.
As to what happened a couple years ago, I know it wasn’t your fault.  A lot of people get excited when they see you’re going to be around, and that excitement ended up becoming a fight.  It ruined the night and our small interactions.  I don’t want to admit that it still stings a bit, but as times goes on, it’s not as bad as it uses to be.
The reason why I’m writing this to you in the first place is that it’s time for us to get to know each other again. I feel like our relationship could be better.  A lot of people love you, and I can see why you are just enjoyable. People feel like at ease around you and allow themselves to let go, and I should embrace that.
I want to be able to enjoy your company more and even though I know we’re never going to have the same experiences we did in the past but nor should we. We are in different places and want different things.  The fun times we have together should be different too.  I think I’m ready for the next step forward, to start anew. Let me know if your still interested Halloween, I hope I’m not too late.

Sincerely,
Me

A Showdown and a Smile

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With new challenges come new obstacles and difficulties.  I find myself wanting to sleek back into the habit I had before of avoiding the problem hiding away until someone or something else takes care of it. It’s a habit I formed long ago to deal with all the fear and disappointment I felt from my lack of power in the world.  I secluded myself to reading stories about people who did more, tried more, and were more than I felt I could ever be.  I had dreams but now a plan to accomplish them. Each moment I spent with these heroes, I felt as if they were giving me something to carry within myself, a sense of spirit and power.

There is one thing that I feel is almost universal about them is that against extreme odds they do not let the despair of failure cloud their actions.  They press on against this seemingly unrelenting force to create change in the world.  Though not all of them may be the most reliable form the onset, they do what needs to be done because it needs to be done.  They find their purpose and pursue it, and it might be the naivety of my feeling about stories, but if that isn’t one of the more beautiful things life, I don’t really know what is.

What I feel might be one of the more cliche acts that I hold dear to my heart is when a new and unexpected challenge arises, a smile breaks loose from the heroes.  A smile that speaks volumes about how even though the world seems to be crashing down on them, and fate calling for the end, they embrace the chaos of the situation and for a moment are willing to collect the charges of taking on the entire world.

I know in a way its a bit of a silly trope, but a smile breaks down a situation and finds humor in the ridiculousness that our world offers us.  It moves us from being crushed by the weight of the world to feeling free of its burdens.  It gives life to those who feel like theirs is ending. A smile and a laugh are amazingly powerful things.

I am trying to emanate those heroes that are engrained in my heart.  Becoming strong in my own way and fighting my own battles, each successive victory giving me the knowledge that I can go a bit further than I was before.  I hope that when the cards are down, when the world seems to be crashing down around me, that instead of hiding away and hoping it all passes over, that I smile and accept the challenge the world has offered, fighting tooth and nail for victory. This knowing that only way out is forward and all of us are stronger than we believe.

Midnight Musings : Confidence

Confidence like glass shatters,
The moment it breaks,
Your heart drops and the noise resonates within you,
Leaving sharp pieces of a once clear thing scattered around
Unable to move
you become afraid to hurt yourself more
On the shards of your once intact self
Like a minefield, you feel you must tread carefully
Because you are susceptible to harm

There you stand
Watching as the light twinkles upon the pieces defiantly
With all these numerous and  infinitesimal selves scattered about
You can’t put it back together.
You have to clean up the debris
and start again
Hoping it’s stronger the next time though.

Sickness Fatigue

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I got sick again, and in doing so, its thrown all my plans through the ringer. The idea that I would stay on top of things never accounts for sicknesses of any sort which is probably a bigger problem in the first place. I have probably have said this before, but it really has put a damper on things. This time not just the sickness but the recovery.  It’s taken me days to feel some semblance of normal, and I am still ridiculously tired. I think that’s the worst part of it, not the symptoms but the fatigue.

It hits me like a wall, almost as if my head is moving through a thick fog of fatigue. It has plagued me for days, forcing me to cut short the productive hours I usually have.  Maybe I am pushing it too hard, but I want to make the most of the time I have now and actually make steps to getting ahead in the life in which I dream to be. It even makes waking up feeling with my head feeling heavy of sleeping sand.  I don’t enjoy this at all, it makes me feel so detached from me.

I can say that being sick will always put things in perspective how good it is to be in good health.  I wish I weren’t tired, I wish it didn’t throw out an entire weekend of productivity, but I can’t undo the past. I want to work for the future, but it’s this fatigue that is following me everywhere I go.

I know this isn’t my usual spiel and more of a complaint than anything else, but what can I do when my head is pounding against my eyes asking me to hit the pillow instead of the books.  I can fight back, but I don’t know how much to, I don’t want to relapse and watch myself descend back into sickness, especially when I am so close to these days in which I am free to be as productive as I want to be.  So I will bide my time and wait until I can rise again healthy and full of energy.

 

The World In The Life Of A Guy – Part 9 – Shape and Satisfaction

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I used to be a bit of a portly fellow, whose relationship with food was probably not the healthiest.  Whenever I was bored (which was a lot), I go to food to fill my life with some sort of relief from the pains of nothing to do.  To the point where I would spontaneously get hungry whenever there was a lull in my life.  I’m sure there were some deeper reasons why food became such a contentious thing, but my relationship with how I look and who I was about food change a lot when I hit puberty, I think it does for every guy.

When I entered high school, I was already a towering five foot ten inches. Though not the tallest person I knew in my grade, I was, for the most part, a head above the rest of my peers.  Since I was young, I would go through periods where I would grow several inches and become a bit leaner. After this one, my growth to where I am now was slightly more gradual.  The eating didn’t stop though, and I ballooned in weight and in size.  I didn’t understand healthy eating, and like most burgeoning teenagers I really didn’t care too.  I had never been fit before, at least not in since I was much younger. I did sports but it never really was an exercise more of just play.  Of course, a with hormones and age comes with a cruel sense of self and my pitfalling self-esteem coincided with my first couple years in high school.  I learned how to calculate my body mass index and the readings weren’t exactly favorable.

By the time my second year was coming to a close, I was determined to get thin.  I spent every evening when I could outside running.  Food became the enemy, I counted calories to a fault and would hardly eat.  I wanted to look like those popular people with a sense of curve and strength.  So that my body didn’t feel like a condensed blob of fat and skin.  I remember at the height my pursuits I would begin to get dizzy spells in the middle of the day that would feel like my head was hit by a wave and my body would feel off balance.  I achieved my goal though, and with that, my self-confidence rose again.  From then on out, it’s always been a struggle, a yo-yoing of weight and fitness. My relationship with food is significantly better than what it was, and fitness has become a staple in my life. My goals over the years have changed, but it’s always easier to get started after the first time doing it.

I feel that for many men out there, their fitness and health trials and tribulations go largely overlooked.  There’s still an extreme amount of effort people have to put out to get the look or feel that they want.  I know that for many girls out there, there is a significant hormonal component that keeps them from dropping undesired poundage but there are many obstacles for men also.  Look at the expectation for a lot of guys, whose idols and comparisons usually lend themselves to A-list actors, musicians, and athletes.  I am always amazed at the amount of work people have those types of muscular physiques put in. Hours upon hours of time to craft and create muscle in just the right way to accentuate their features.  The almost comical diets they have to put themselves though, that at least by their accounts feels almost close to slow starvation.  All to obtain a look, which is good for them, they deserve it after that type of dedication. For those who are less willing or able, they are relegated to fall into the stereotypic role of being the funny guy, or rich to get ahead.

My point is that for a lot of men, that expectation is bit unrealistic, at least from the onset.  It’s like watching an Arnold Schwarzenegger movie and expecting to be able to become a bodybuilder like him from going to the gym once a week. There are different ways to healthy and be fit, and each person should find their own. Some will be more extreme than others, but sometimes it can be just as simple as wanting to be able to run a mile without feeling like you’re going to die.

I have an old non-updated license photo in my wallet that ever so often I will end up looking at.   It’s a picture of me, several inches shorter but heavier and a lot rounder face.  It of when I was sixteen and a lot of changes were happening. The picture works as both a motivator and a remembrance of what things were like before and why I should always keep trying.  Our self-image impacts so much of how we go through the world, do it the way you want to and what feels right to you because you are the only one who knows what it’s like to be 100% you.

The Fire Within That Burns The World

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At times it’s hard to so optimistic. Day in and day out, bright. Don’t get me wrong, I love the sunny disposition, it’s what I default back to when I am in new situations.  It’s not even just because of the amount of energy I expend, the cost is negligible because at the end of the day it makes me and others happy.   What the main problem is, that people take it as being disingenuous or too much all the time. Like opening the blinds in a darkened room, the suns rays being to burn your eyes as you squint to see.  It’s a good moment every now and again, but eventually, people will be seeing me through sunglasses or create blinders so that the light stops bothering them.  I become a special case, no longer seeing me for who I am, but a dimmer version of myself.  It gets lost, and though at times I am aware of this light and make motion to try and dampen it, I can’t help but burn within.

I don’t really understand why, but part of me feels this passion for life all the time. It dwells right there within my chest, like a ignited ember, a fire ready to take hold of many exciting things this world has to offer.  Life has a funny way of being able to make things incredibly fascinating.  Like Alice in Wonderland, each little piece has a whole world to it if you’re willing to go down the rabbit hole.  It all acts as kindling for me, and as long as I am moving forward, there is an inexhaustible supply of it.  It keeps me knowing I’m alive sometimes, like breathing and in its absence, it feels like I am suffocating.

But fire burns, and growing up with it makes it, so I am resistant to the heat and the light, but not everyone is or wants to be subjected to it. It radiates out, and sometimes it feels like those around me will eventually get burned unless the light and heat is scattered.  Like I have to continue moving just enough that people will be able to handle it.   I’m learning, of course, each day observing the reactions of others so that I know how much is enough and when to keep my mouth shut. It’s a trail littered with mistakes but at least its progress.

Fire burns hot and requires a lot to burn.  I need to find places where this fire will sit last, a slow burn that warms the spirit and doesn’t burn the soul.  It’s like finding where you belong, and the people you belong with, I want to find both, but there’s really no easy way to look, just keep following your feet. Hopefully, I can find that place where the fire will able to sit for a while and create a fixed light. A light that you can count on light the warms people instead of burning the world.