A collection of my ever changing interests, musings, reflections, and thoughts.
Lady Luck is a mistress who disguises herself in many shapes and forms. Some good. Some bad. In Iraq, she was mainly a bitch.
What is seen in war does not haunt a man as much as what he does in war. War brings out the best in men, sure, but it also brings out the evil bits as well. Man carries out actions in war he did not know he was capable of. It is those things a man must spend his life coming to terms with. A man thinks himself honorable until he is not. Society lifts him up as a brave hero while the evil he has committed eats him up.
This story is my way of dealing with my inner demons. It is my way to process the evil I have done. This story is not meant to dishonor the brave men which have served - and there are many. This story is meant to shine a light on the darkness people don't like to expose. War is a complex beast. History will lift up certain men and heroes, and others as villains. In reality, they are both.
This is a story of me as the villain.
Four years ago I tried my hand at some creative writing to help process some of my experiences while deployed to Iraq. This is one of those stories. Our lives are a moment away from being turned upside down. This event still sticks its ugly head up in my memories every now and again over a decade since it happened. Someone witnessing this scene would have seen a Marine patrol crossing the road and a vehicle which had trouble stopping. For me, a jammed weaponed prevented a lifetime of nightmares and torment.
Four years after writing this, and over a decade since it happened, it is finally time to let my creation enter the world. It is not an action-packed or heroic war story, but for this old Marine, it has been a therapeutic story to write.
Enjoy!
My short stories is my way of dealing with events in my life. All of them are dramatized true stories.
Two and a half years ago I had challenged myself to write something on this blog everyday for a month. Anything. It didn’t matter how shallow or deep the message was…just write.
In the midst of that month our family received the news that my dad was diagnosed, and began his battle with, stage four kidney cancer.
As I write this today, that battle is coming to a close. It is looking more and more like my dad has days, if not hours, before he breaths his last and enters into the arms of his eternal father. I write this to reflect on the words he said when he started this journey, “Why not me?”
This was a tough letter to write. A letter to a wonderful man that is not yet gone…but is going. It is difficult because it can never fully capture all of who my dad is to me, and so many others. My hope is that it at least give you, the reader, a taste of who this man was, and why I am proud to call him my dad.
As a white father of two black children my heart has broken once again. My heart has broken because once again, a black man’s life was snuffed out at the hands of a white police officer. My heart breaks for my son and daughter who will experience prejudice and racism directed at them because of the color of their skin. My heart has broken because I as a white man can’t rightly teach them how to deal with being marginalized, and at times treated as something less than human. My heart has broken because I still struggle with how I can use my white privilege to enact change in our very divided country.
A few months ago, I reflected on what I had learned since starting Jiu-Jitsu when I received my first stripe on my white belt. In short, I began to learn how to become humble, resilient, and not play the victim when hardships in life come. You can read more about that here.
Yesterday marked the second milestone in my journey when I received my second stripe. My big takeaway this time around:
Life doesn’t fight in its weight class!
In jiu-jitsu, a belt is a belt. The number of stripes, or the color of the belt, doesn’t make a bit of difference when you hit the mat and roll a couple of rounds. Yet if the belt doesn’t matter during battle, why do those who practice the art look at the higher belts with respect?
Like many Americans on Thursday, my attention was riveted by the Senate hearing of Christine Blasey Ford and Brett Kavanaugh. At times I found myself identifying with Ford’s “camp”, and at other times with Kavanaugh’s “camp”. I couldn’t understand why I was so conflicted about what I was hearing and seeing. Over the weekend I tried to think about what transpired many times and guess what? I still find myself conflicted…and that’s OK!
This week’s roundup of the few things I found interesting, or have been enjoying. Cheers!
This week’s roundup of the few things I found interesting, or have been enjoying. Cheers!
This week’s roundup of the few things I found interesting, or have been enjoying. Cheers!
"There are two ways to be wealthy—to get everything you want or to want everything you have." - Ryan Holiday
From the time I was a young man until now, I have always chased "wealth". Whether in the form of money, power, or success, I have always strived to be the best. And more times than not I have succeeded.
The following is a roundup of the few things I found interesting, or have been enjoying, this week. Cheers!
“We don’t abandon our pursuits because we despair of ever perfecting them.” —EPICTETUS, DISCOURSES, 1.2.37b
As a recovering perfectionist, who still struggles much with the pursuit of perfecting the things I undertake, I don't think perfectionism is just bad, but also dangerous!
This past month I wrote a blog post every day. I have learned a lot from this experience over that time. My hope was that by writing every day, that it would help me get over some of my insecurities, fears, and pride. I think it has put me well on track to do that.
We all go through moments were life seem meaningless. As if there is no point to it all. Maybe a loved one dies, or you feel like you can't advance in your career. We all go through seasons of questioning, but we always seem to find our way back to some form of meaning. But what about in a concentration camp? What about if you had to endure the greatest suffering a human has ever had to endure? Can meaning be found in the midst of that? In "Man's Search for Meaning", Viktor Frankl, a Holocaust survivor, tries to answer just that question.
Yesterday I wrote about morning routines, and afterward, I received a few questions about my personal morning routine, so I wanted to clarify a few things. First, the timing of the routine is not as important as having a routine. The only challenge with having a morning routine later in the morning is that you will have more people and things to guard that time against. Secondly, if you are wanting to get up earlier you have to think about when you go to bed. So today I want to touch on the importance of a bedtime routine.
A few years ago I wanted to create a few habits that would grow my strengths and minimize my weaknesses. Habits such as reading, journaling, and continued education. At first, I found creating these habits to be a difficult undertaking as I was trying to do them after work. Something would always come up which would get in the way. Then I discovered the power of a morning routine!
What is "writer's block"? The dictionary describes it like this: "the condition of being unable to think of what to write or how to proceed with writing." In school, I remember "writer's block" being thrown around as if the student got the flu. "Sorry, prof, I came down with a bad case of 'writer's block' and wasn't able to finish that paper." But is "writer's block" really a condition the author can contract?
Sunday afternoon, four of our five kids left for summer camp. My wife and I were looking forward to a quieter week with just the youngest child at home. Then yesterday, my parents asked if they could come to get the youngest child for the night. A night without any kids? Yes, please! And what a wonderful night it turned out to be.
My random thoughts and philosophies on life. I have always sought to understand the “why” behind different things in my life. Whether it be relationships, work, hobbies, or current events, these are my attempts to understand the things in this short life of mine. I may not always get it right, or I might think about things different years from now, but these are snapshots of my mind at any given time.
The air was crisp and the sky clear. It was early in the morning and the surrounding homes were still stirring to consciousness. The birds and gentle winter breeze were all that could be heard, as they did their dance through trees and blades of grass. The boy took slow and controlled breaths as he leveled the shotgun.