A Little More Time...

There are sometimes stories that are private because, even though they are miraculous and immeasurably valuable, those same stories affect people personally to be told, and thus they go on in metaphors and in parables and in fictional characters that take the true stories places.

True stories are the best stories, because their meaning isn't empty, they actually end up meaning something to ourselves. But fiction, like all art, is a reflection of life and our own experiences. Nevertheless, I feel that, to only the extent that the real stories can be said, I will tell the tale, in the positive aspects of it... after all, it did end positively and had more good moments collectively thanks be to God!

With that said I will reflect on, not so much the miraculous healing moments of the in between moments of life, but on the romantic life that it has in its best times, the ones I wish to remember when I think of things.

Me and my precious wife went to see Pippin the first time this evening at a community college and it was a very moving play all around--intellectually, philosophically, spiritually, and artistic entertainment. With this said, the play brought back our first fates meeting, the same location (which we had not visited as a couple since) as when we saw After the Fall at the Arthur Miller Conference in 2002 and noticed each other the first sight at that event with a wish, a prayer, and magic of fate in the air. The play we watched tonight, Pippin, discussed search for fulfillment or meaning of life. It has a theme song about living while there's time, and that sums up how Pippin finds love or beauty in living the ordinary to be that intense dream that he was looking for everywhere, right at home. It summed up what I had already known these past five years since I married--that love is in helping the one you love and in living in the moment.

I reflection on life in general, there will be ups and downs like a roller coaster. Yes a lot of sayings and things I have contemplated are plain and cliche on the surface, but I'm reflecting on them in the deeper sense for the first time and seeing that they are not just sayings--they mean something of how we should look at and reflect on life in order to not be unhappy but feel that it all makes sense, thus giving our purpose peace. By doing so I have realized means of life, like that God is the Gift of Dreams that He gave us all. Without those dreams, without those sense, my life was literally at stake with the downs of that roller coaster, but if I have sense to it I can hold those handrails and get through it without fading away. Something, solid, something, good, to hold onto. A meaning in life.

Cliches are used often because they do mean something. Like you complete me. Like I see you. Like I love you.

If you are intrigued by the things I have said in this blog, know that every single one of these blog posts is a first draft. Not one of them wasn't flowed directly from the thoughts as I had them, though two or three were written first and then simply copied onto it verbatim. The book itself is almost entirely made up of things not in this blog, but the subject matters have come up in circular patterns as I deal with the issues working around with them trying them from angles until I find that right angle to see it best at.

I will write the things I need to say, and eventually learn how to edit, that copious beast which takes out redundancy, which judges words and cuts out, replaces with similar but better versions, makes everything in that foggy vision of the future clear. For now it's so hard because I've always been a person living in the moment--writing is the written work, not some patch quilt made from cutting up the pieces of how the mind saw it at the time. But I know deeper down that this is all a facade, that I must either become an editor in addition to a writer or else find someone to make my edits for me who I can become collaborators in the artistic process with, hopefully with a publisher--if not, in the way that I thought I might have to do it and had resigned myself to do it, on my own.

I had a friend I made of a homeless person by treating him like a human being and talking to him, a few years ago, probably gone now. He had been a veteran with stress disorder, and had wanted to go back to see his family some time, was trying to get on social security too. Homelessness is a largely not understood life for those that have never been there, that is all I was able to gather from it. I saw though, that in human frailties under stress, we fall victim to tragic extremities. I cared about him a lot, but was not willing to stake myself outside of my comfort zone when it might endanger safety of our luxurious 21st century American employed lifestyle. His name was Charles. I did not know his last name. Last time I saw him a year or two ago, he had been waiting for my return with a dessert I was getting him, and I had been delayed somewhat by running into someone at the place I bought the dessert from. Long story short, Charles looked like he was injuring himself with the fork I gave him when I got back, and I did not feel safe to confront him more than setting the dessert beside him and walking to a safe distance away. Anyway, there are sad moments of regret for all of us in certain circumstances, some are a greater sadness than others, and all of them have some purpose in the bigger plan. The reason I believe this? The reason I know this? It's because otherwise there is just void to our lives, and that does not give peace. Knowing there is a bigger plan and that our mistakes will not ruin it, and that others mistakes also will not ruin it, will get us through those unbearable moments to help us find peace again. That is the meaning of life--peace in the heart. One close to me said it was love, and that is true too. But it's another way of saying the same thing. Just like every mass we attend we say: Peace Be With You.