We often define ourselves and or others as only being a part; or some parts. When we or others remind us of those things in ways that destroy us, rather than lifts us up to do this better, they then can become all that we see; and feel. The real truth is that the hell in and around our lives is a part of the cause of angels falling; whether an addict or not. How we cope with the all that has been in the yesterdays, or even today, holds what may be or will continue to be in the tomorrows; often ensuring that we will walk in circles. It is simple enough to know how others affect us but the challenge is to find the understanding of what is being expressed through the words and the behaviors of someone else. Words, as well as the personal emotional definitions tied to them, are the most powerful weapons that each of us has; able to do damage on the inside as well as the outside of us. What moment or part or behavior are you defined as being; by you and or others? Are you so very heavell or are you merely just what is easily seen? I am me but you will never know that if you choose to only conclude what you want to view or to deal with. You are you and I believe in your hell; while also knowing that heaven lives and breathes there too. Lend me your feelings and I will lend you mine so that we may both recognize more than just what we see and believe; from our positions on the circle of heavell. After all, we are the perfect people to be sometime warriors and to also have “f” moments while feeling brave and scared with every step and or fall.
This past weekend I was down an aisle in a store when I overheard a conversation between a mother and her young son; a couple of siblings stood nearby. That son had asked his mother if he could have a toy. I listened as she told him that he could not have anything because “he was bad”; while encouraging the other two children to pick out toys. One of them, the youngest in the group, tried to speak to his brother about the toy choice he had made. As that “bad” son sat on the floor quietly ignoring his sibling, his mother then began to berate him for not acknowledging his younger brother. Her words contained the power that, no matter what he did, he was only hell; as well as not entitled to any of his own feelings. The emotions on his face spoke volumes; despite never saying a word. The oldest sibling of the group apparently had been watching me as I moved back and forth trying to find what I needed; and said something to her mother about me. When I finally found what I was looking for, I walked to the front to check out. This is a store I happen to frequent so the cashier and I were having a conversation on the behaviors of others; one he just happened to initiate with me. As I relayed my opinion that words are the most powerful weapons that we have, I turned to see that mother standing near me; listening to our exchange. Have you ever been told that you are “bad”? Or perhaps have used that word? How did it feel in your heart; whether said or heard? What does it mean to you? I am me and you are you and that boy is who he is unless words are used to define who we are; in detrimental ways on the inside as well as the outside. In a moment, I saw the all and the nothing, the fracturing, in the face of that child; one whose tomorrow may include a fall in order to run from the pain that was created in the yesterdays. Words have the ability to create the victims that can and do grow up to be the monsters in the tomorrows; whether an addict or not.
One of things that Ryan had been working on, right prior to his death, had been why people or things are either all or nothing; especially as decided by others. He had certainly been treated that way by several people; even by some of the people in his personal life. Ironically those people wanted him to stop being an addict and yet they would never allow him to be anything other than that; the all and the nothing. What is in the words that you say to yourself; as well as to others? There are many ways to get to the place that we need to be but none of them involve feeding the hell. Pick your own weeds and smell your own flowers so that hope will continue to be a part of a better tomorrow; because every dream matters whether here or not.
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