The Long Way Up

I have always been wary about formal meetings and corporate gatherings. Whenever I get called to one of these, I always feel uncomfortable and out place. I always feel like at anytime I am going to be called out and be made a public spectacle of. For a long time I have always wondered why I felt this. I could probably trace it back to a traumatic childhood experience, yes; but over the years, the reason for this dislike to "official" get-togethers became more clear. Okay, okay! I'm not taking a jab at people who gather together for meetings to make plans to get things done, because many times they do just that: make plans and get things done. There's certainly great value to consolidating our time, effort and resources to achieve great goals. And I'm all for that. The thing I want to point out though is when these gatherings are turned into pissing contests by the "bigwigs" and the "who's who": people who deemed themselves very importan

It seems to be an annual habit of mine (when my birthday comes around) that I tend to get sentimental and express what's in my heart and mind through verse and prose. This year's natal day was no different. I call this one 'For. To.' as a play on words on my age. ;) - - - - - For the things that once was said To the loves that now lay dead For the wounds that rendered scars To the surface and the heart For the strange familiar ways To the one it led astray For the former now forgot To the man that I'm still not For the face of future asked To the days of pain unmasked For the broken soul collect To the knee that genuflects For the will that stays unbent To the strength that's left unspent For the agony of wait To the unrelenting state

I wrote this "poem" in October of 2014 as a favor for my pastor friend for their Pastors' Appreciation Celebration held in the church I used to go to. It was (and still is) entitled "The Pastor's Call", but I'd like to rename it for this blog entry as "THE DEADLY VOCATION"! Hahaha! - - - - - To rise above the love of self And live beyond the lure of wealth To run the race, forsaking all Of such is made the pastor’s call To lead by faith when there seems none And carry on when hope seems gone To build the bridge and watch the wall Of such is made the pastor’s call A pastor stands when others crumble He lends a hand when others stumble A pastor walks on, lowly, humble And oftentimes required to tumble A pastor guides when one is lost He gives of self, he knows the cost A pastor looks to Jesus’ cross He lets Him take away the dross To see ahead the winding path And then avoid the aftermath To keep the sheep from deadly fall Of such is made the pa

One of things I really, really miss about childhood was the actual reality of not having a care in the world. I miss just waking up in the morning, just having breakfast, and then just playing outside with other kids. I miss how, after hours of just playing outside, I would come back into the house for another meal. I miss how after playing some more outside the house I would wash up and get ready for dinner. After which I would go to sleep at night and repeat these steps again the next day. Everything was so simple back then. Life was uncomplicated. As an adult, life is anything but simple. I sometimes wish some of the things in my life weren't my current realities. Paying bills I always feel I'm in a catch-release situation with my monthly utilities payments. It's like I'm running after something that permits me to catch them, but only for a brief respite. And then they're off and running again. It never feels like it's going to end. The daily commu

There was a period of roughly ten years of my life when I was writing lyrics and making songs like crazy (by my own standards anyway). I tried to write down words on paper as fast as they popped up in my head, and tried even harder to capture melodies that were fluttering by my ears. This was the season of my life where I thought I was going to be a prolific songwriter and lead vocalist of a (world!) renowned band. It was a desire that had been burning in my heart for a long time. Over the course of that ten-year-musically-infested span of time, I have met some of the most gifted guitarists and songwriting collaborators who have helped unleash the flood of creativity that have been held back by the dam of solitude and boredom. If I were a flickering lyric writer at the time, my guitarist friends were the high-octane gasoline that lit me up brighter than a wayward bush fire. We would play music together like there was no tomorrow, and write songs like our lives depended on it. W

Life has an abundance of moments that give us wonderful emotional highs. Like the first day of school. For many of us, this experience can be highly stressful as, for the first time, we leave the comfort of our parents' side and the familiarity of home. For others, it can be highlighted by the excitement of meeting new friends in a larger interpersonal setting. Or how about the moment of having that first crush? It certainly brings with it a plethora of intense emotions that leave lasting memories in our brain. In my case, I remember the girl... and I still remember the feeling. Other instances could be the time you perfectly executed a dance routine you practiced really intently with your family; or the time you got a special year-end bonus for doing such an excellent job at work; or the time you finally discovered and lived out your life's purpose. These bring us heightened feelings -- positive or negative. We often refer to these times as moments where we have experi