Counting

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.”

- Theodore Roosevelt

Like You

I walked a mile today and I wished it was our mile

Gramma Base

I remember you a smokey brown haired dreamer
You used to lean your head on right hand elbow on table and run your fingers through your hair
You would cough and talk to me with Nat King Cole crackling from the radio and the smell of bacon in the air
The bread box was filled with old and new bread; little bugs would crawl across every other opening
I remember how you fought and I remember how classy you were
I knew you had regrets. They sat on that hand and those fingers running through your hair.
They were in each cigarette. They were in each cough and childhood song. They were in your pictures.
They were yours and you were theirs.

Noise

We are people that want noise. We could not sit for an hour without making noise. We would have to think and know that we are alone. Maybe that is what we are running from and what we are running around trying to find.

Come and Go

Blogging should be called blaagging. It's lost it's luster a bit. I know that minute by minute twittering seems to be more popular, but it doesn't allow for reflection and the filtered mind. I'm pretty sure that no one reads this any more and anyone could if they wanted to, but it's nice to have a place to just type random thoughts and sift through the day once in a great while. I have a lot of decisions to make in the near future; life changing decisions. Never before has it been so important to know what God wants and what is best for my family. I have a feeling that if I were to leave my home town that the world is changing so quickly I wouldn't recognize it on return. I need to do what is best for my family and that is a fragile and complicated matter. My wife and children are more important than my dreams and having less can sometimes mean more if it is with the right people. There is definitely a bitter sweet element to life's decisions. I pray God helps me to think with clarity and to lend myself to an effort that is worth change.

The Circle

There was a day I walked alone and shed the ballast waste
And from the air there amassed a solemn, darkened taste
Of weaker days and cradled months and for long did they stay
Until at last they gripped and slipped a rope with ending fray

From there I walked in unison with sinner, politic, and saint
I scathed the witching stone and scraped from slate to slate
And when I came upon a clear I surmised a brightened path
But yet my feet would not turn, they would not beat the path

And so again, I walked alone and yet a different fear I tried
Walking in the shade and leaning side to side
Look! The circle widens greatly, but a light and bright still breathe
And the endlessness of this self walk has lead me to believe

There must exist an endless prairie of green, peace, and solitude
Where one can unload their greatest burden to serve the multitude
For the sinner, politic, and saint that wander near it's face
All of them long to end the circle, to find purpose and their place

Give Me Room

The days go on and still there is no room or time for what people asked me to do and I never got around to doing. I woke up from my bed to write this out of a compelling feeling of incompletion. Incomplete because there are so many things I want to do in my life. There are so many people that I could help or gain insight from. My boys could raise their candor with me and my wife and daughter could confide in me at will. There are so many mistakes I could be making right now. Experience isn't primary, but it's the catalyst of distant and avoided moments that I usually find myself tipp-toeing away from. I can't say I'll feel this away again for a while, but if I don't I truly hope I read this post and just drift into it's reflective sea.

I'm always asking myself if I can make a difference before I die. I think that's all I want.