the glimmer of hope

Recently, while working in the emergency department, I was witness to a small family group as their loved one was slipping away. I could hear their conversations with each other and with the ER staff. I wasn't eavesdropping, but they were only a few feet from where I was on a ladder. I remember some of the conversation parts, but the words were less important that what was hanging on each one of them. It was obvious to the staff and to each in this family's group that these were their loved ones final minutes.

Yet, in spite of their resignation to the fact, there remain the smallest glimmer of hope. This hope, however slight, became a dam, holding back the flood. I know this because I saw the hope and I saw the eventual flood. It appeared that when hope was extinguished the flood of grief rushed over them. There was no gradual resignation; no slow acceptance; no release by degrees. There was hope; then, there was grief. There were words laced with a flavor of unreasonable expectation; then, there were cries of anguish. It made me think of that hope.

I know nothing of the person in the room. I never saw them. I know nothing of the small family gathered there. I did not linger with my looks. I did not want to intrude upon their hope nor did I want to invade their grief. 

I saw enough and heard enough to feel their hope and to feel their grief. 

Just that slightest fragment of hope was enough to withstand the destructive force of loss. 

I am thankful for my hope. Paul, the Apostle of Jesus Christ, said it was the 'anchor' of the soul. 

Hope is the oasis to my spirit when I travel in dry and parching places. 

It is the rest to my mind when circumstances and events seek to steal my strength. 

It is the dam that keeps the flood waters of despair at bay. 

It is the glimmer in the darkness. 

It is the path by which we traverse the valleys. 

It is the anchor, keeping me from being swept away. 

It is my lifeline when I climb the nearly sheer face of the mountain. 

At times it is a bright beacon held aloft to light our way. 

At other times, it is just the flickering of life remaining in the embers. 

but even its weakest flickering chases away the darkness. 

It is my security when I have no reason to believe. 

It carries and uses words, though words cannot define it. 

I can show you what it does, but I cannot tell you what it is. 

I can show you where it is, but I cannot tell you what it is. 

I can show you the countless works of those that lean on it, but I cannot tell you what is it. 

I can show you what it looks like in the face of a survivor, but I cannot tell you what it is. 

I can show you the devastation that follows when it is lost, but still, I cannot tell you what it is. 

I can point you to the source, but I cannot tell you what it is. 

It is everywhere I look and yet it is undefinable. 

Regardless of the source of your hope, it is still the anchor. Regardless of your faith or belief, that hope is still your anchor. 

Life allows U-turns

One of the best things about life is the ability to change it. Your day may not start in the morning as mine does, but we will use 'morning' as a analogy for a starting point. Every morning (see how we did that) when you start your day, you have to option to continue on the path you finished on the night before, or go in a completely new and different direction. 

We hear it all the time. Today is the day I start doing this or stop doing that. That is a U-turn in life. It doesn't automatically remove any consequences from the old path, but it does stop them from continuing to compile. 

Daily, we hear of someone starting 'their diet,' or quitting smoking, or drinking, or starting a new job. Those are the U-turns that life allows. 

We read about stars recreating or rebranding themselves to rejuvenate a dwindling career. We can do the same. See the person you want to be and turn in that direction. 

Life allows U-turns!!

Scooby Doo

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

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

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?

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

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...

You Walked In

You walked in

Crumbling 

I guess that best describes 

The condition of my life

If anyone really looked

My friends

And they truly are my friends 

Missed it as they walked about

Around and through my life 

There was no malice

There was no neglect

There was no forethought

None of this was their intent 

It is merely

The busyness of every life

The care and concerns 

The day to day of living 

And still 

I crumbling stand

In the midst of it all

Feeling alone in the crowd

To say

You walked in 

Would be a misnomer 

Speaking technically

You were always there

From the beginning

Until now

You have been at my side 

You were there, waiting 

Although again

Speaking strictly technically

You weren't actually waiting 

You were walking

You were working

You were holding

You were supporting

Sometimes this load 

The one I decided to carry

Caused me to sway

Under the burden unexpected 

You kept me from falling

You provided invisible support

When my legs buckled

And my arms flailed 

To others, or mostly myself

It seemed amazing

I didn't crumble 

Looking back, it seemed miraculous 

I felt the obligation

Gaining weight 

Or I losing strength

Or fading in resolve

I can't give a timetable

Or tell you how long

I didn't count the steps

Or measure the distance 

From a decision

To a light affliction 

To a encumbrance 

To the crushing millstone

I carried that day

I cried out

By reason of my fear

The ground beneath my feet

Seemed as a troubled sea

"Lord, save me"

The words

Driving from my soul

Nearly drowned out by weariness 

You walked in

Your hand moved between 

My seeming inescapable burden

And my crumbling life

For the first time 

I felt a taste of freedom

Separated from my affliction 

The weight from my birth

There are no adequate words

None can convey the joy

Like trying to describe 

Taking your first breath

I sing now

Not the song of sorrow

But of a joy, unspeakable

Full of glory

I speak now

Not the words of death and dying

But the words of living and life

And that, more abundantly 

I walk now

Not the walk of the slave

But the walk, not by sight

In a newness of life

I live now

Not in the darkness of shame

But I live in the light

Marvelously created

In Him

I live now

I move

I have my being

Not one part of my life

Was not changed

When I cried out

When You walked in

You walked in

Ron Simpson, Jr. 

September 28, 2014

One Year

It has been one year since I started my weight loss journey. There have been ups and downs, as is the case with most journeys. Overall, it has been a wild and successful ride.

One year ago, I was an under active overweight man walking (on those occasions when I did walk) with a very intricately carved African Chiefton's cane. I was out of work with not a lot of work prospects, due partially to my size. There was so much I was trained to do that I could not do because of my failing health.

I was eating myself to an early grave, and at 52, early meant a lot more than it did at 32.

On August 8, I came home after a hospital visit and told TJ, I was changing my eating habits. August 9th began my journey. The week that followed saw me joining SparkPeople and beginning to track my eating. It was a week later I began my exercise program that consisted mainly of walking.

Since then, the changes have been too numerous to tell them all. Some are easily measurable, while others are not so easy to measure.

Changes

The easiest change to measure was what was reflected on the scale. When I started, I tipped the scales at 350 pounds. This morning, in the one year anniversary week, I set them spinning all the way up to 208 pounds. My impossible goal, set one year ago was to lose 130 pounds in a year. I really did not expect to achieve it, but knew I had to set a goal, or I would never move from my starting point, most likely. I, actually, reached my goal around the ten month mark. I had added some calories to my diet now to slow down and maintain. Even with those increases, I have lost an additional 12 pounds in 2 months.

Calories

Did someone mention calories? We didn't track my calories before I began, but in reviewing my old eating habits, my wife estimates that I was consuming around 3500 calories a day, and with no exercise (I could be nice and say, "little or no exercise" but it was definitely no exercise) I was just adding and adding to my size.

What I am telling you at this point is that my results are not typical and what I did might not be healthy for everyone. You have to listen to your body closely. You have to pay attention to the healthy and unhealthy points in it. You are the custodian of your own health. No-one knows your body like you do. You have to be alert to changes in muscle and muscle tone. You have to notice changes in hair. sickness, bowel movements, energy levels, and others body activities to know what you need to increase or decrease (proteins, fats, carbohydrates, and vitamins.)

I went from that estimated 3500 calories a day to 1100 calories a day. (I did consult my doctor, eventually.) I had many people telling me that my calories were too low. My doctor told me what to look for if I needed to make changes. In the first nine months, I averaged about 1100 calories a day. In the last month, I am averaging closer to 1300 calories a day.

Sizes

When I began I was wearing pants with a waist size of 58 and/or 60 inches. Today, I wear pants with a waist size of 38 inches and they are a bit lose on me. I do have a pair of dress slacks that are a 37 inch waist that fit well. So, there is a measurable and noticeable difference of 23 inches in my waist. My hips have reduced about the same as well. My shirts, pre-journey beginning were 4X's. Today, they are size large. My suit jackets have dropped from 56's to 44's also. Yes, noticeable and measurable differences indeed.

Walking

I did mention walking, didn't I? One week into the journey, I began my walking regimen. (I didn't know it was a regimen at the time. I thought it was just a walk.) It has been my primary exercise. I do have a soloflex, but tennis elbow has prevented me from using it. So, I walked one third of a mile the first night and it tried to kill me. I did it without the aid of my cane. I came home 20 minutes later drenched in sweat. However, the next day, I did it again ... three times. Then I increased it steadily. From then to now, I have logged over 800 miles of walking. I live in a small town. Everyone sees me walking. More than a few people have let me or TJ know that my journey has inspired them.

I have been working again for 7 months now. I am working again as a construction electrician. The job has physical demands that I could not have done before I started.

Secret

The secret is simple, there is no secret. Eat less, burn more. It is just that simple.

If you haven't made up your mind to lose weight, it doesn't matter what program or what new fad diet you try, it will not work. Once you have made up r mind to do almost any of them will work.

Energy levels

Yes, my new energy levels are through the roof, comparatively speaking. I do more, more often than since my wife has known me (almost 10 years.) it is definitely noticeable, although I am not sure how measurable it is.

“I bet you feel better, huh?”

I hear this all the time. I almost say, “duh” when someone asks. However, politeness reigns. Of course I feel better. Who wouldn’t feel better?

Anyway, I go on.

Happy one year anniversary to better health. What started then as a weight loss effort has become so much more. It has turned into the ‘newer healthier me’ journey.

I have lost over 40% of my starting body weight.

Happy anniversary to all those that started the same week I did. I hope your successes are as great or greater than mine.

On Your Day, Dad

Dad,

It has been a while

Since we were able

To talk, face to face

And, it seems these days

There is more and more

I would want to share

I have never been

One of those

‘Talk to your grave’ types

So, I think of you

And the things I would share

And content myself

I know you would be proud

Of the way my life has turned

And the obvious influence you have

I am not angry

At your unexpected passing

Or seek to place blame

I am sad at times

Even though my mind accepts

It is the way of all flesh

Time will bring this moment

Even to my children

Should time continue to stand

I can only hope and pray

That my influence

Has been as positive and profound

So, this is my

‘Standing at the edge’ talk

And sharing with you, Dad

I am honored to be ‘like’ you

I am as proud as I have ever been

To be your son

His Word

Upon which

You patterned your life

Tells us that we all seek

That approval of the Father

To hear “well done”

And while I do seek it

I like to think I can hear it

In your voice on the winds

“Good job, son”

“Thanks, Dad”

“Happy Father’s Day”

Ron Simpson, Jr.

June 19, 2011

my clothes don't fit ... What's new?

It is not a new thing that my clothes do not fit. Well, most of my clothes don't fit.

For most of my adult life past 25, I have owned clothes that did not fit. There were always clothes in my closet or in the drawer that I could not wear because I had outgrown them. You know the clothes; the ones you are going to lose a few pounds and get back into, and then never do. They end up hanging, unused in the closet until we have a yard sale or someone we know needs them. My favorite was to donate them to a needy family that lost everything in a fire. that way, I wasn't giving them away because I was too big, but i was helping the needy.

Still, there were clothes that were too small, clothes on the verge of being too small, and the clothes that fit. Every now and then, quite by accident, some clothes too large for me would show up. Someone was giving them away. Someone gave them to the wife, or mom. They would end up in my closet, with the comment, "those will never fit me" and in a few months they would be my regular day to day wearing clothes.

There were always suits too small, pants too tight, and shirts that were uncomfortable.

Well, my closet still has clothes that do not fit me in it.

The difference is; for the first time since I can't remember, they are all too big for me.

My current jeans are a size 38 (for those the didn't catch the last entry.) My closet has 38's, 40's and 42's in it. My shirts are 16.5 in neck and my closet has those and a few sizes larger. My jackets are a 46R and my closet has those, and 46's and 48's. (Today I bought a 44 at a thrift store, and it fit.)

so, my clothes don't fit, and ... I love it !!

A new size !

My weight loss has slowed down (by design) since I reached my original goal weight.

I am still losing, but only about a pound a week. I reached my goal of losing 130 pounds in just 9.5 months. It is now about 10.5 months and I am down 134 pounds to 216 pounds.

My last post gave the numbers. This post is a happy report that I am now wearing 38 inch waist pants. It came as a bit of a surprise as I wasn't expecting a size drop.

Still, I am thrilled.

So much has changed since I began. Some things are still sinking in while others haven't even began to register.

I am happy to report this new size, though!

Monday arrived on Friday

It seems that today is going to be a Monday in spite of what the calendar says.

I know Monday gets a bad rap because it is the first day back at work after the two days away for the weekend (for most folks.) It could be that our routine is slightly askew because we haven't done it for two days. It could be because our head is still in weekend mode. It could be that Mondays are indeed a cursed day. For whatever of these reasons, Monday gets the bad rap.

This week's actual Monday was a holiday. I spent it at the lake. I spent it on the dock by the water. I spent it in a kayak on the water. I spent it not thinking about work.

Tuesday came and went without a hitch. It seemed I had skipped the Monday curse. Until today, that is.

In an effort to get an early jump on the weekend and to do some errands, I decided (with permission) to go into work early my usual start time is 7AM. This morning I was shooting for 6AM or earlier. It was going well. I was up at 4:30 and out the door by 5 o'clock. After a stop for gas, I was on my way down the highway. It was looking good.

Then I arrived at work. The building is locked up but can be accessed by my ID badge, which, it seems, I had left at home. Arghhhh!!!

Fortune smiled, in that several of the other employees had the same start early idea, and I called one and he let me in.

I gathered my things. On my belt are five items during the work day. Two are personal and three are work related. My personal items are my cell phone and my pedometer. My work items are my company cell phone, my company pager, and my company key holder.

With all that in tow, I headed to the room on the sixth floor of the hospital where I was to be working today. Well, after a fruitless trip to security to get a temporary ID (they don't dio badges until 7.) Once upstairs and at the door, I insert my key and discover that it does not work. Arghhhh!!!

I can't get in to work and no one will be here to let me in until after 7.

Oh, Monday, you sneaky dog! You laid low until I was completely unsuspecting, and then you sprang.

Bad Monday, bad!