Dedication to an unassuming prophet

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Desert Curmudgeon, an unassuming prophet, as I affectionately call him. He is a writer, a philosopher, an intellectual, a humanitarian, a seeker of truth, and what I consider to be genius in motion.

I am posting this because I think his words need to be heard, and because sometimes we need a little boost, and he gave me one of the most meaningful, heart-warming compliments I think anyone could in regards to my writing. He shared with me that my words inspired his in Warrior Mind.

The compliment:

“For another take on a similar theme, please check out this profound post by Brooke at A Gypsy’s Tale: Masters Of Our Fate. The post you just read would not have materialized without her”

Wait, what? I told our Incurable Dreamer , another one of my blog heroes, it is the equivalent of Einstein telling me I I’m smart…beyond. When I saw that he had credited me with inspiring him to write THAT, it felt pretty much the same as when I saw my name as an author in the Washington Post. Call it ego or a somewhat dysfunctional need for recognition, (both are true), but it made me deliriously happy.

So, please read his words. To say they will make you think is a gross understatement. To say they will inspire you, even more so.

My reaction is below. A lot to take in on a Sunday morning, but in light of all the madness that has happened the past few weeks, perhaps a bit of reflection and perspective will help.

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My Response:

Jesus. I don’t even know where to begin here (Jesus, might not be the best place to start). I have never read anything so unbelievably profound and enlightened, yet accessible and pragmatic…and impossible and maddening. Because I agree with him on so many levels, although could never articulate it so eloquently.

More times than not, it is our fears- of rejection, of pain, of being alone- that drive our behavior, our actions, our “ignorance”. And empathy, god, it just seems like this word is almost antiquated. The ideologies that get thrust upon us on such a colossal scale, shoved down our throats, reiterated at such a rate that they not only become our modus operandi, they drive are words and actions in a way that doesn’t even seem to be on a conscious level. We react, we judge, we declare truths based on ideas that we never took the time to question.

Therein lies the tragic flaw, right? Digging deep into our psyches, questioning what is supposed to be the foundation of our existence, the constants, ‘the truths’, is terrifying and painful and an inconvenient distraction from comfort, as mundane and unfulfilling as that comfort might be. I think this makes empathy next to impossible, unless the recipient of it is a person or people who sync up with our established truths.

But I will say this. I don’t believe the search for our tribe, for finding those people we connect with, love and who love us, is necessarily a hindrance to becoming the warriors we inherently are. I actually think it can be what fuels this process. Loving someone completely, accepting and celebrating their flaws, I believe teaches us what empathy truly is. I think it can also ground us in a way that gives us the strength to ‘go to battle’ and the courage to do this, not with traditional weapons, but armed with the capacity to look beyond the tactics of those who seek to inflict pain on others and see the origins of what motivates them to do so. I think if we have experienced love in the truest, purest sense, we can empathize with the fact that everyone, at the end of the day, truly just wants to experience love. Isn’t this the universal thread that unites us? So many are denied this or don’t see that they are worthy of it. Perhaps committing these horrific acts comes from a belief that they will attain love and acceptance with their actions in the name of whomever, whether it is in this realm, or in a world they believe lies beyond.

Please be very, very clear, I am not in anyway justifying these acts. I believe the perpetrators have swallowed someone else’s truth. Regardless of what you believe, causing any other being pain is anything but ignorant, it is the antithesis of humanity, it is the antithesis of love. And yes, I hate them for it. I am human, after all, and I am an empath by nature. But, meeting them with aggression, killing innocent people, dropping bombs on countries and annihilating the very ones who could counter and overcome those who have forgotten their essence, its asinine and clearly ineffective, to say the very least.

So what do we do? We go within, as our author so beautifully concluded. We start with discovering our truth, what makes our hearts full and gives our lives purpose. We treat our tribe with the love, compassion and kindness that we so desperately want to receive in return. And if we don’t get these things in return, we try to understand that they are fighting their own battles.

Most importantly, we continue to fight our own and try like hell to love ourselves in the process. We start there and hope that one day our intentions, our benevolent actions, will reach our fellow budding warriors who have forgotten who they are and why they are here, why we are all here….to embrace or inner warrior, to fight for our truth, and above all, to love.

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11 Months, 9 Days Revisited (published in Thought Catalog)

A little ‘light-hearted’ reading to start your weekend. Okay, it’s not light-hearted, but it might have something to do with that general area.

Hope it at least makes you feel…

Living With a Shattered Heart

Eleven months and nine days

He walked in and sat down at his desk, glancing up at her and then back down.

“Well that doesn’t look good”, he said nonchalantly.

She didn’t bother responding.

“How long has it been bleeding like that?” He asked, still not looking up.

On and off for eleven months and 9 days.

“And it was broken, correct?”

Yes.

“How badly?”

Shattered

“Oh.”

Oh?

“Well, that just makes things…”

He glanced over at the instruments spread out on the tray beside him.

Makes things what? I mean, you can fix it, right? 

He shook his head.

“I’m afraid not. That’s like asking me to fix a shattered window. Your only option is to try and let it heal the way it is, and then wait and see. It will most likely function again, on some level, but just not like it did. The good news however, is that the pain will eventually go away and you probably won’t feel anything at all”.

What do you mean, ‘won’t feel anything at all’?

“Most times in these cases, it just goes numb when the bleeding finally stops. But that’s a good thing, right? I mean if it feels as bad as it looks…”

She slid off the table and made her way to the door. She couldn’t even look at him, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of shame that she had let this happen.

He offered her something to take that would numb the pain more quickly.  She paused, considering it.

No. I guess if this is the last thing I’m going to feel, I should ‘enjoy it’ while it lasts. I mean, it can’t last that much longer, right?

“It’s hard to say. But to be honest with you, yours is in pretty bad shape, so it could be awhile. The good thing though, is that no one will know but you. All you have to do is keep a smile on your face and the world will think you are completely normal.”

She closed the door behind her just in time to hear his final words echo down the hall.

“Remember to smile”, he said light-heartedly. “People might think your heart is broken.”

shattered

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