Keep digging through the pain
and at the bottom you’ll find
that what’s buried underneath
was worth your struggle.
Then just keep on digging.
Digging
Home » Posts tagged 'pain' (Page 2)
Tag Archives: pain
Let today be a reminder
Let today be a reminder
that bravery
sacrifice
and we the people
bleed as one, heal as one
and mourn together
as one
for a better tomorrow.
A kick in the head!
I will always be curious
and allergic to cats.
Ain’t that a kick in the head!
Portrait of my own Unique Beauty
If what you see in the mirror is ugly, then consider this: chances are you’re comparing your own unique beauty to what, for your entire life, you’ve been programmed to believe is beautiful.
And what is beauty anyways?
Margaret Wolfe Hungerford said, “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
And isn’t that true? Yes or no, in more instances than not beauty is subjective. In fact, I’d go even further to say that beauty manifests itself in infinite ways other than what the eye can see.
As a photographer with a fond admiration for women and men alike I can honestly say that I have taken countless photographs and manipulated them to appeal to the mass collective of what is to be considered quote on quote “beautiful.”
Hypocrite. No, I think not. I never claimed they were beautiful but simply did my job in a way that my superior agreed was aesthetically pleasing.
A wrinkle here, a crows foot there, deleted.
Nobody has ever died from a portrayal of beauty, right?
Wrong. Though I’m not an extremist so there are many factors to consider, all of which yes, I agree, may seem like a bit of a cop out or excuse not to hold oneself accountable for taking what is and transforming it into something less natural.
But this isn’t about my career choice or eye in which I behold.
This is about you and that “ugly” reflection in the mirror.
You are not ugly, you simply aren’t. You are you, and you are beautiful.
Those who claim to seek perfection, well, they’re only trying to fill a void. And it’s a bottomless pit because like beauty, perfection is ultimately subjective.
While I sit here and delve deeper into thought, I watch a mother and daughter walk by my window. The mother is flapping her arms as graceful as she can. The child looks to her mother and understands she is trying her best.
In the end all that we can do is try our best to love ourselves enough to fully accept the unique beauty of another.
Any other judgement is of which we have been programmed to believe.
It’s taken a very long while to believe in myself and I willingly admit that each day is a slow progression to further acceptance of my own unique beauty.
If someone tells you you’re not beautiful, that’s their loss.
And I hope the next mirror that you face looks back in your direction as the child looks with grace and marvels at the perfection of her mother’s love.
The ability to discover is a gift in itself and it’s that same gift of discovery that makes our individual perception unique.
Have you ever noticed that the thing you are most excited to share with another person, be it a new book, movie, podcast, idea, or what you think happens to be something to be considered “the greatest,” that their excitement never quite matches your own?
Of course you have. We’re all human.
And have you ever noticed that upon showcasing this thought or idea to another that when you do, their reaction never quite lives up to your expectation, which leaves you feeling either hurt or discouraged?
I will not take it upon myself to assume that you have though I will tell you this: I have.
And it’s a very tough thing to understand.
In the moment of realization that your appreciation for something you deem extraordinary hasn’t been deeply felt in the same way by another can often cause conflict, misunderstanding, and judgement—that is reactionary rather than honest.
Instead of expressing our pain for what seems a lack of appreciation in the moment, we often turn to criticism, which is in itself a form of false pride.
Rather than saying, “I’m confused as to why you don’t feel the way I do about what I’m showing you,” one says, “well, of course you don’t get it,” or more often than not, we say nothing, letting our emotions fester to distress and shame.
In the Alchemist, Paulo Coelho writes: “It’s not what enters men’s mouths that’s evil, it’s what comes out of their mouths that is.”
Well if that’s not the boldest yet truest statement to have ever been penned than I implore you to enlighten me as I’ve found myself in this predicament more times than I am willing to admit.
My point is, we can’t expect another’s reaction to mirror our own.
We shouldn’t expect them to for the simple fact that they are their own person, with their own background, beliefs, and experiences that before judgement deserve appreciation and due time to process and articulate what is being presented.
What took the time to find, understand, and appreciate should also be granted—the time—to another.
It’s like telling someone rather than suggesting someone read a book.
Your willingness to share does not determine one’s willingness to receive.
It’s like giving someone the answer without allowing them to solve the equation.
The ability to discover is a gift in itself and it’s that same gift of discovery that makes our individual perception unique.
So the next time you offer someone a gift, regardless of their reaction, remember who you’re sharing it with and why you chose them to share it with you all over again.
I think then you will find an even deeper appreciation for yourself and another.
Surrender for this man is essential for future understanding.
As important as it is to be informed, it’s just as important, if not of further importance to distinguish between what information you allow in and what information you choose to put out.
Feeling pain is not an excuse to cause another pain.
Feeling slighted is not an excuse to slight another person.
The news and media are valuable resources to acquire current information but the information gained from the news and media is not an excuse to promote ignorance and intolerance—or for lack of a better metaphor: one side of the coin—without further, more definitive research.
I don’t claim to know everything and I have come to terms with the fact that I never will.
I’m no a saint.
There has and always has been social injustice and sorrow in the world and I can’t change that. All I can do is choose a righteous path towards consciousness.
Consider this.
The anteater will eat ants to survive as the hawk will hunt ground squirrels and field mice. The spider will spin a web to catch the fly. The fly will feast on feces to survive. The feces will decompose into the soil and a tree will grow.
Nature always finds a way.
Human nature is an entirely different phenomenon.
It’s a common theme between civilizations to find balance and order between extremes. Love and hate. Fear and faith. War and peace.
Each and every day this phenomenon is in question—human nature. The hawk does not see the field mouse as a hawk. The hawk sees the field mouse as prey. The field mouse does not see the insect as a field mouse. It sees it as prey.
Nature operates without question.
It is human nature to ask why. It is human nature to consider the consequences of our action. It is human nature to consider what is right, wrong, and just, then decide.
Either way, the tree will grow.
Either way, the prey will die.
I’m not asking for you or I to be a saint, I’m just asking you to consider another way, a way in which I’m sure you deal with like I, each and every single day.
What I suggest we all consider is this: walk gently, and spread love.
Love is a universal concept.
Hate is a creation of the mind as a defense mechanism.
Hate, is a creation of man.
With all the information that history, news, and media has so far presented us with, what’s stopping us from immediately choosing love as a means to an end of irrational hatred which like wild fire spreads without care or concern or reason?
Tonight I’ll lay my head down, as tomorrow I’ll rise and move forward with peace, love, and understanding.
And it will be easy because I’ve chosen to surrender.
Taken out of context, the idea of surrender is often considered as a form of defeat but not in this case.
The battle has already been won, so when we realize there was never a battle to be fought, surrender to this man is essential for future understanding.
Artistic illusions
Make my bed
Spread the sheets
They are white
They are clean
There’s a nestle of bird
Who sing softly and sweet
There are bills
To be paid
Overdrafts
To be made
But I’m conscious today
Knowing that rot can wait
I have given enough love, I’ve wrestled with the thought
Spared quarters like rain to a cynical saint
I’ve got no time to spare
All this death in the air
Has me feeling quite good, transcendentally great
Forgive me but truth is
Artistic illusions
I’ve no cross to bear climbing trees and it’s clear
That I
start to see past
The sun and moon
The sky opens up
There’s nothing left to do
This closure’s my mantra to you.
Wash my face
Clean my teeth
Knock on wood
Once a week
There’s a pub inn Philly
Where I dug my own grave
Comb the depths
Of your hair
Try and act
Like you care
I’ve been watching your play
Mixing tonic with pain
You have given enough love, so much work to be done
Put your suitcases down, for a while and remain
Like a park bench in autumn
Or leaves that have fallen
I’ve got proof there’s a cure, you just gotta find yours
Forgive me but truth is
Artistic illusions
It’s a tale to be told, when you’re young and your bold
And now I’ve
Got to go back
To the way I was before
And now you’ve
Got to go back
To the way you were before
This closure’s my mantra to you.
it’s ok to feel blue too.
I think I’d rather not
I mean ok
Let me walk a block
Get my thoughts straight
Try and help out
Make you feel great
If this was high school
Basket case.
I think I’d like that
I mean no don’t
If you bite back
I could go home
Take my shoes off
Draw a warm bath
Some use a toaster
Here I’ll right back.
Got a new job
Got a new face
Got some new friends
To help replace
No that ain’t right
I mean ok
It’s a bad trip
Depends what you take.
Is that a sick joke
Or the new wave
Is that a cut throat
Or a switchblade
Is this real life
Or a showcase
No one can hurt you
Just be brave.
Had a dog once
His name was courage
He could sense pain
Like a surgeon
One day I woke up
He had broken
His chain and ran off
But that’s the breaks kid.
See the sunshine
And the bus stop
See the shadows
And the rooftops
Even your grumpy
Great grandpa
Smiles sometimes
Don’t last long.
So if you feel bad
Just know I like you
If you feel sad
I’ll feel sad too
We’ll sing a singalong
In a sad room
Kid it’s ok
To feel blue too.
Tell me a story
There’s a part of me
that see’s this all clearly
like a child standing in a crowd
there’s really only one way out.
What is it that you see
it’s fine to disagree
why if the world’s mine oyster please
forgive me for the lack of belief.
I had this faith in you
I thought you had it too
how many smiles does it take to show
the unhappiness we grew to know.
Do you take this hand
would you understand
lighting matches just to prove you could
did it ever do you any good?
Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.
There’s a part of you
engrained in me now
I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit
it’s a piece I won’t ever regret.
So what’s the point of these prose
and insecurity poems
like a fish needs water to breathe
I guess it really isn’t up to me.
If this is just a passing feeling
I’ll agree to disagree then
watch the sun rise and fall once more
a couple hours then I’ll start the chore.
You see I know my problems
it’s not up to you to solve them
if I go out the Hemingway
like Kerouac first I’ll have my say so
Tell me a story, one without love, cause I’ve taken you for granted so many times—c’mon.
Tell me a story, one without love, cause it’s taken me for granted so many times—enough.
Look at me lovely
Look at me lovely this here is I guess
a mixture of meanings which help to make sense
of the past which gave us nothing but suspense
with fearful longing and a mother’s defense.
Look at me lovely with eyes in full bloom
now imagine a child alone in his room
the covers are pulled tight warm as a womb
his head full of static his heart thumping doom.
Look at me lovely take into account
these present day feelings are years gone without
comfort or closure confused full of doubt
exchanged for composure now deep underground.
Look at me lovely two decades gone by
and please ask yourself to whom do you cry
an eye for an eye I used to imply
now I want nothing more than to sleep through night.
Look at me lovely with infinite jest
this smile is armor for that I confess
in daydreams I make up reasons quite complex
for nightmares which haunted that boy in his bed.
Look at me lovely it’s lovely in fact
walking down sidewalks avoiding the cracks
though sometimes it feels like breaking your back
the pain that defines us with love cannot last.
Look at me lovely with harlequin eyes
for we are not wells that dry up inside
and take with you this last line then decide
his failure’s your lesson, her nurture’s your pride.
Words Of An Average White Male 