On regrouping.

"Reform the line! Reform the line..."

On the battlefield, after a charge or just after a certain amount of time, things tend to get messy. Soldiers tend to go astray in their pursuit of the enemy. If they are allowed to stay like this, it is easy for the enemy to overtake many of these stray soldiers and kill them.

However, a wise leader will call for his soldiers to regroup. Soldiers are stronger in groups and far less likely to die.

Reader, I have been a warring nation. For the past seven years, I have never gone beyond perhaps a month without declaring war; I have always known what I wanted and been willing to try and take it. But I've only ever won a single war. For ten and a half months, I held my ground until I decided that my army wasn't compatible with the land and I abdicated it.

Since that time, things had gone very badly. I doubled my efforts. Tripled them. And still, somehow my charges would be broken, or the enemy would overcome me, or all would be lost in some confusing melee. And when all seemed darkest, I finally declared peace. For nearly 6 months now, I had fought no wars. I have often wrote of this in my blog. Sometimes when I wrote of it, I was happy. Sometimes, I was ambivalent. But at no point did I declare it a bad idea.

Recently, I fought again. Out of nowhere, it seemed, which made it all the more compelling to me. It just seemed right. I had lost a lot of confidence in myself, but I didn't want fear to hold me back. There were some confusing things going on, but even those I set aside, all for the sake doing what seemed natural. I had doubts about victory, and was at times certain that this, too, would end badly, but there were other things that encouraged me and made me certain that I would win this one. "If fighting is sure to result in victory, then you must fight," says the Art of War.

But, as suddenly as it started, the war was over. I lost. And now my soldiers are scattered everywhere, dazed. It's up to me now. I must regroup. I must hold the line. Other people are counting on me to hold everything together, so that bandits don't burn my crops, or kill my people, or pillage my goods.

But it's hard. I wasn't sure that I could handle another defeat. I was sure that another defeat would destroy me for good. But here I am. As I've written before, I'm like the Gunslinger from the Dark Tower. "You darkle, you tinct. May I be frank? You go on." I will go on. Like before.

But to what purpose? Is this what my entire life is going to be? Here the allegory ends, and I will be frank. My job is to help people through their problems and for them to feel better. And among my friends, that is what I do, too. But at the end of every day, I am alone. I have no one. Everyone I ever had has left me behind for greater purposes, and I must accept it. But it just feels like no one really cares about me. For a little while, at least, that seemed about to change. But they're gone too. They have to go. And if they're reading this and not taking a break like I would, I want them to know I'm sorry, too. Maybe someday things will be different. But I don't know when that will be, and I don't care.

I just need to regroup for a while.

There was a dream that I dream, a dream of sure victory.

A Life for the Other.

The happiest times of my life have always been the times I was living for others.

I don’t mean that others were the only things I was living for…there have always been reasons to live even if there wasn’t any real love of life to speak of. What I mean is that I have been happiest when I was wanted and “needed” by others. The times when I knew that certain people would notice if I weren’t there – that they would miss me while I was gone.

I know that people say they miss me. But few show it. I never feel missed unless someone shows it. It is not enough for me – or maybe not for anyone – to say “I miss you.” If you miss someone, do you reach out for them? Invite them back into your life? No? Then you do not really miss them.

Right now I feel as though I am really only living for myself. I am not necessary. When I get money, I spend it on myself. I have no one else to spend it on. When I have time, I spend it for myself. I have no one else to spend time on. Even when I’m with other people, I am not necessary for the party. It would go on if I were not there. I once thought it would be enough to simply be invited out by a friend once in a while. Now I know that is not true – it only hurt to be left out. What is really desired by me is to know that I am wanted by a person for who I am.

I know that I am at least liked by others (if not wanted), but I do not think they know who I am. I know they think they know, but what they know of me is really a shadow of my real self – or a caricature. They fill in for what they do not know. To really know me, someone has to ask about the things that I think and feel and attempt to understand. And who does that? Whether because of habit or the intimidating task of the act, no one I know right now really does.

Does this mean I want romance? I do not know. This one thing is what makes me doubt my intentional avoidance of any relationships. For on the one hand, I know that I feel some acute stress every time I think about dating, and feel disgusted every time I imagine myself dating anyone anymore, but on the other, I know I want to be loved just like anyone else. I don’t want to lie in wait for love to fall on me, as if love is crammed behind a closet door, waiting for someone to open it so it can tumble all over. That’s not the way it works. But I can’t bring myself to care enough to change anything.

What I do know is what I always know – how I feel. And right now I can handle this feeling just fine. It’s unpleasant, like a dull ache that an aspirin can’t cure, but tolerable. But whether by choice, or chance, or the long decay of time I know that will change. And I know that I am stubborn enough to hold to suffering rather than let go of bitterness.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream of loving loneliness.

Continuity of life.

I've been contemplating something lately.

I've been very happy here in my new home. There are easily multiple reasons for this: financial security, routine, the dignity of work, new friends, the excitement of relearning how to live and have fun. And I do have lots of fun.

But I think there has been a hidden reason, one that came to me after conversations with two friends. Both of them are old friends, both of them I enjoy talking to, but the difference between them is that after talking to one, I feel happy, and after the other, I feel sad. I think neither of them read this blog, which is why I feel safe saying this. But I talk to a lot of people...maybe they'll not know for sure who I mean.

Regardless, because of my history with one of them I always reminisce about what passed between us...and with the other, I reminisce because that is our relationship and what we talk about. The combination made me think about how life had gotten where it is now. I realized not only that I was not yet over what happened between my friend and I, but that I had forgotten about it for a time while I've been here. In fact, I've started to think of my life here as a new life, and not a continuation of the old. I broke the continuity in my mind, and so the painful, hurtful past felt like it never happened.

But I can't forget the mistakes and the silly things I've chosen to do in pursuing what I saw as my future. The future was never mine to choose even with all my effort - God had already picked one out for me that I clearly love. So be it. How do I keep this future bright?

I had already chosen to fast from dating for a time, likely several months, before I moved here. Recently I've added the decision that my new attitude towards dating is that I would avoid it altogether even after the fast is over. Since this future I'm living happened to me through God forcing it on me, and all of my failures were due to my efforts to prevent a future God planned for me, why not apply this to dating, and avoid women altogether? Whomever I am meant to be with will be thrust upon me whether I like it or not, and I can save myself the pain I put myself through over and over again.

Still, it's not a comfortable way to do things. I wonder if I've gone too far. I wonder a great many things. And this wonder has reduced me to silence the past few days. Thinking about this, thinking about my old life and my new life, and how it is really one life and I'm the same fool I've always been. I made my new friends uncomfortable a few days by saying almost nothing. It's eye-opening to discover by their discomfort how much I actually talk in a group of people when I am struck silent by my thoughts.

I wonder if I'll ever really figure out the grand scheme of this life, and how to get where I'm going.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream to contemplate the stream of this life.

Tiny threads.

It's safe to say I feel like junk again.

It had been pretty good for a while - I had a nice week and a half or so break from my sadness which I used to really revitalize my social life in a way I had no longer thought possible. I think having a true friend has really helped  - a wonderful woman of God who has deigned to be an excellent, loyal friend.

I'm really hoping this will just go away on its own - after all, I've spent so much time saying that if I only had one really loyal friend, I would be able to bounce back from anything. But boy, does this hurt. I can't face this kind of rejection without feeling at least a little sad. It would help if I didn't dwell on it so much.

It's times like this where I wonder if I really can keep taking this sort of thing. I think, "Is my sanity hanging by tiny threads like I feel, or am I just being dramatic?" I tend to conclude the latter. Still, just when things start to look like they're changing, they become the same again. A little dig here, a stab there...I go lower and lower, and just when I think things can't get worse they do.

Before I write a blog on self-pity instead of my dreams (as this blog started out, long ago, if you can believe, and to be honest I really don't want to be the kind of person who wallows in self-pity, that's disgusting to me) I want to say that I really think that having this loyal friend around I mentioned has really helped. Whenever I'm really starting to get upset about things that have happened (or not happened that I feel should have happened) it's been nice dwelling on the fact that I have someone who really wants to make time to talk to me - about anything. It doesn't even really matter to me that it's not a romantic relationship...this is someone I really trust who considers me a close friend and includes me in the things that she does. Wants me around, and notices when I'm not. That sort of thing.

That makes it better.

There was a dream that I dreamed, a dream for a long rope of sanity tied to a true friend.

Love game of heart and pain.

"What's this phony ceremony hanging around? We got to...get down! Lock it out from this shaky ground! Come on and spit it out, your hearty party, mood everywhere. Let's see you people laughing, people punching out in the air!"

I feel like I lost my positive outlook for a while there. It's scary to see how I'm changing, sometimes. The one thing I miss about my old self is that I never stayed down for long. Now I get pushed down and stay down until I feel like I've fixed it.

"Get down to the hip hop a bee bop a loo a...You hear the sound it's all coming to ya! I wanna get ya! I wanna tease ya! I'm gonna get this beat to hit ya! Get down to big time illusion, life or the rest. Come on and tough it! Jump it! Funk that feeling! Give all your best!"

I also seem to be becoming a perfectionist. I used to feel that as long as I did my best I didn't care what the outcome was. In many ways that was bad, but in some it's a major detriment when even when you do your best you still don't get the outcome you wished for, and you end up with a lot of regret for something you had no power over.

"Come on and drive on drive on drive on into night...You got that burning power, midnight hour, flashing your light...It's just a love game of heart and pain that we're going out. That's what the twenty first century is all about!"

I'm not down and out, yet, dear reader. This love game of heart and pain called life hasn't defeated me by any means. This is simply a hiccup, and I think the feelings I expressed in my last post were exaggerated by my exasperation with the spiritual desolation I've been feeling. I'm determined to keep my head up. It's not over yet.

"Get down to the hip hop a bee bop a loo a...You hear the sound it's all coming to ya! I wanna get ya! I wanna tease ya! I'm gonna get this beat to hit ya! Get down to big time illusion, step into time...Come on and rock it sock it, just jump on it, LIVE IS DIVINE!"

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was for a positive outlook forever.


http://chrono.ytmnd.com/

Burnt bridges, bright beyond.

I am fresh as morning dew, you are pure as falling snow.

I had the most wonderful conversation two nights ago. I finally told someone who really understands me the last little secrets I have...and she did the same. Except in reverse order.

Looking back on life, I have found that a lot of the things I never understood why I had to go through have prepared me for now. I am so happy now because of those things - if they never happened, I would not be the person I am now. I would not be prepared to face the wonderful challenge of being a mirror of Christ's love to someone I truly care for. For instance, if I had never been bullied, I never would have escaped into books and writing...and in a small part, that passion has brought love into my life.

A good friend of mine told me yesterday that Teresa of Avila, Doctor of the Church, wrote that the prayer of agony prepares you for the prayer of ecstasy. Long ago, I prayed for God to take away my pain...but instead, through the pain I was given a chance at something better. I would still be a little boy in a man's body right now, and much less happy of a person, had I not had some pretty blistering slaps to the face.

I have burnt a lot of bridges in my life. People say "Oh, don't burn any bridges, you might want to go back!" But I never want to go back. I've ended a lot of friendships, left a lot of places, and I have absolutely no regrets. Not anymore, not now that I understand. Now that I've met someone who really understands what it's like...someone who like me, wishes to leave the past behind and become reborn to new life in Christ...I am interested in her past, in my own past, but I don't want to reflect on it as a place that has anything to do with who we are now - the past is how we got to be who we are now, only. It is a prologue; a stepping stone; a way station. It is a past life somehow connected to this one. We're like children again - fresh as morning dew, pure as falling snow.

Perhaps I'm being far too naive, but I can only see a bright beyond now. There may be hard times too, but I think they'll be like a couple of thorns in a bush of roses...I'm much stronger now too, and I pray better as well. No matter what happens now, I always have hope. If 21 years of bad memories can lead to something so wonderful, even if this "something wonderful" is gone, I know God will lead me on.

There are only a few last loose ends to clear up, now, before I ask my question...

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was for hope beyond all burnt bridges.

A splitting discovery.

Who ever thought a split-open chin could lead to anything wonderful?

I sure didn't. Last night I fell because of a big patch of black ice and faceplanted, getting my nose and cheek scraped, and my chin totally split open. It didn't hurt that bad, but I felt like my night was ruined. What would I say to the guest I brought to a party? "Sorry, you'll have to have someone take you back to your apartment...I need to go to the hospital. I hope I'll see you tomorrow" is what I thought I was going to have to say. I didn't need to say anything at all though...she went to the hospital with me. There wasn't any other place she wanted to be. She tried to be modest, perhaps she even genuinely didn't think it was a big deal, but I was touched. She chose to spend over an hour in the hospital talking to me than to go be with her other friends. It meant a lot...the cut didn't make me cry, but that sure did.

I find that even though things are going well I still get nervous a lot. It's hard for me to really believe that anyone could like me as more than a friend...it's something that I'm still trying to get rid of. Little things make me nervous, such as silence after I say something bold about how I feel, or if I find that instead of talking I'm just smiling and staring like a big creep. But...there is a special someone who always seems to take that away from me, at least for a little while. She's probably reading this right now, so I will just say, thank you. :)

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that love could set all hearts at peace.

Dreams have come to life.

"...Sam lay back, and stared with open mouth, and for a moment, between bewilderment and great joy, he could not answer. At last he gasped: 'Gandalf! I thought you were dead! But then I thought I was dead myself. Is everything sad going to come untrue? What's happened to the world?'"

This, my friends, is how I feel, and I'm posting late at night so I can put it down before I forget exactly what I wanted to say.

Life nowadays is like a waking dream. I keep wondering when I'm going to wake up and the dream just keeps going on. It's as if I decided what I'd like my life to be like and it just came true. Why did God choose to bless me this way? I may never know. What I do know is that all the pain I've experienced in life has led me to this point...I've never appreciated pain so much in my life. It has brought me here to this land of dreams.

I've never been called perfect before in my life, nor has anyone ever said they were excited to do something as simple as getting coffee with me, but I've now heard both, and more yet, in one night. It was so cold out, but walking with the wonderful woman who said that to me...I felt warm. I think I'd still be out there walking with her now if it weren't for the fact that if I weren't going to bed soon, I probably wouldn't wake up for morning prayer.

I find it funny in a wonderful sort of way that she and I were thinking the same things about each other these past few weeks: Why would someone so wonderful like me? They probably don't...All without knowing the other thought the same thing. How close we were to missing something beautiful.

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream is becoming real.

The torture of humility...

O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, hear me.

That's the first line of the Litany of Humility, which I've begun to pray daily. It's basically a list of desires and fears that you pray Jesus takes from you to help you be humble. It's torture. Every time I pray it I realize how much I want and fear all of those things, especially these three:

1. "From the desire of being loved, deliver me Jesus.
2. "From the fear of being forgotten, deliver me Jesus.
3. "That others may be loved more than I, Jesus, grant me the grace to desire it.

The reason I've begun to pray this prayer is because my pride has gotten to the point where it hurts me emotionally, constantly. It hurts a lot to always wish people loved me, or loved me as much as they say they do. It hurts to be left out and forgotten. It hurts that others are loved more than I am. If I was just humble, I would almost always be happy. I'm sure of it.


Every time I get on Facebook I see exactly what I fear the most every time. Because of my feelings of isolation, I am addicted to feeling the connection I get over Facebook, but at the same time Facebook feeds my isolation by forcing me to see pictures of friends hanging out together without me, and sending messages to each other about how much they miss each other and want to hang out, while I'm simply forgotten.

If I were only humble, none of this would bother me. So even though it hurts, I HAVE to try. I've never felt the need for God's help so strongly.

There was a dream that I dreamed, and that dream was that I would never be bothered by pride.