Saturday, January 31, 2015

Failing

failing

I have watched you
I witnessed when you fell
I was close enough to see 
the struggle and the load
that took you down

some of it was just life
you know, the things we all have
the daily struggle
the anguish of life
the heartbreak of loss
those things we all must carry
and they are best carried alone

these are a few of the things 
someone can help you with
but you must still learn
to carry them alone
because, they will come at times
when there is no one

then, there was the weight of decisions
the aftermath of choices
the chains and baggage of living
that is different for everyone
that which is light in my life
may be devastating in yours

so, I watch your struggle
with my own internal torment
of when, where, and how to step in
too soon, and you don't learn
and I become your enabler
too late, and the damage may be irreversible
the sickness, incurable

I see you fall
I fight the urge to run
I fight the overwhelming internal need
to rush to your side
put you on my shoulders
lift you above the troubles
show you the warming sunlight 
of a bright future

I hear the terrible sounds
you hitting the ground
the rush of breath
forced out as you land
the breaking
as you try to catch yourself

I listen
for the next sounds
the sounds of movement
the sounds of struggle
the sounds of the fight inside you 
the sounds of determined breath
the sounds of raising

it is not the falling that scares me most
it is not the sounds of struggle I fear
it is not the scrapes and cuts
it is not the bruises
these I dislike, this is true
but they do not break my heart (much)

the thing I fear the most
that which would surely break my heart
would be the sounds of stillness
the lack of the sounds of a struggle
the awful sounds of resignation
the terrible sounds of falling becoming failing

over the years I have lost count
of the times I have seen you fall
even when you threatened to quit
you did so with the sounds of the struggle
still in your voice
I heard the fall
I didn't hear the fail

you have stood
you have shook yourself
you have, at times, limped back home
you have done what you must
to prevent a fall from becoming a fail

perhaps we haven't said it often enough
while we have not always been delighted 
with the choices and decisions you have made
we have always been proud of the person you are
proud that you still struggle
proud that your falls have not become your fails

falling is a given
failing is a choice

Ron Simpson, Jr.
January 31, 2015

Saturday, January 24, 2015

trying a new type of portrait .. I liked the original photo .. 

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Intent

Everything the ocean is, it is at all times .. 
Everything the ocean possess, it possesses at all times ..
The fury of the ocean; the great or raging waves; are caused by the forces of the gravitational pull of the moon and the sun and driven by the wind .. The storms raging .. spurred on by the wind and wave ..
They do not make the ocean more than it is .. They just change the way it affects us ..
The same is true about words. You can fill an ocean with the words that have been written and spoken. Everything a word is, it is at all times. Everything a word possesses, it possesses at all times. The fury of a word; the great or raging words; are altered by intent. Intent doesn't make the word more than it is. It just changes the way it affects us. 
The question in my mind is whether the gravitational pull of the moon working in concert with the ocean or is it working conversely?
In the same light, does your intent work in concert with your words, or does it work conversely?

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Broken


Societally,
we feel the need 
to assess blame
for whatever happens

We seek the weakness
which must be the reason 
for nothing breaks
unless something is weak

This is a misnomer
It takes a great quality of strength 
to allow oneself to be weak
and continue, even broken

When we are born
we come into this world
weak and nearly defenseless
without even knowing 
we come, needing someone

As we grow
we rely on the strength
and independence
of our parents
as we watch them raise us

They teach us
necessarily so
to be independent
to 'stand on our own two feet'

We learn, by rote
when something is broken
there are two things to choose
fix it or throw it away

As a parent looking back
I see now, the error of my teaching
if I taught my children
that weakness is powerless
and that broken is useless

As the sum of humanity
we are all weak sometimes
and often brokenness
creeps into our lives

Just as when we were born,
by the greatness of design
Life, fate, or God
(call it whichever you choose)
has placed those with strength
into our lives

In these times of weakness
whether short or long
they are there for us
to utilize their strength

In times of brokenness
again, whether short or long
they are there for us
to hold us together

We all need someone at times
someone to hold us up
someone to hold us together
someone to get us through those times

Brokenness is not weakness
the strength required
just to continue in these times
is far greater than ever required before

Our character
the sum of our experiences
with the addition of our actions
will never be defined by our brokenness

We are who we are
when we are weakest
when we are most broken
when that strength
that we have forgotten 
comes shining through

The strength
to take another person’s hand
to lean on the shoulder of a friend
to allow love to bind our brokenness

It is your great strength
that will allow you to be weak
that will allow you to be broken
and will carry you through
with help, a little or a lot

Strong things break
inflexible things shatter
strength is perfected
in times of weakness

If you must be weak
be strong through it
if you must be broken
be flexible enough to lean

Brokenness
has never been
about weakness

Broken
Strong

Ron Simpson, Jr.
January 18, 2015


Saturday, January 17, 2015

The return

Spillage. 

Cathartic. 

One of the things I counsel couples about to be married about is "being committed to being married." They're going to be times that you do not like this person that you love. Therefore, you must be committed to being married or the marriage will not last. The same is true about writing. You must be committed to writing. I call this troubled ramblings because they are the ramblings of my troubled mind.

While I have not slowed down in writing, I have not been putting those here. I have a backlog of spillage in my notes. It may take me a little while to work them into some cohesive form for sharing, but bear with me and I will try to stay in touch.

Writing is cathartic. The ability to express myself and put that on paper or tablet or electronic writing is calming to my soul. Even when not in cohesive form, it helps me to simply get out of my mind. It has an unbelievably healing effect to assuage the hurt, or rage, or sorrow, to simply write a few ( okay, sometimes more than a few) words down and walk away, leaving the brunt of the damage there, to revisit in a less raw state. 

What you should read here will be the froth of the boil. You will see the vapor, safely away from the flame. In theory, that will be the case. I will warn you, however, sometimes the heat will commingle with the words and some of the scorch may come through. Sometimes the raw will refuse to be assuaged and will rear its head. Forewarned is forearmed. 

Feel free to comment or not. I don't even know if anyone reads these anymore, since the instant gratification of Facebook has arrived. I have a Facebook account, with which I peruse the surface life of my friends and play a few games. I add a poem or two here and there. It does not meet the level of here. There, they are snippets of our lives; sound bytes, if you will. (Most people only want sound bytes anyway; something to read quickly and react to even faster, without having to try to understand the emotional motivation behind the words.) If, or when, this becomes that, it will fade into the obscurity of that morass. Until then, these are my ramblings, troubled or otherwise. Welcome back. 

1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10 !  Ready or not, here I come...