Yesterday
it was not an easy day. In fact, these two last weeks were unnecessarily stressing,
but I´m here to help, and I hope to rest for the Passover.
I have
lived too long with my mother. She´s not the person I would say I love to be
tagged along, but I´m here because of work, because I can do many things I
don´t do at home, and I´m planning to be where I belong, where I want to be: Home!
Yesterday,
while I walked to my sister´s, I was shocked with the images of an emergency. I
saw a white jeep running like an arrow, just to reach quickly the hospital. I
saw several people crying, showing sour tears and their faces were sadly in
desperation. I felt myself useless, so I prayed God for help and faster
healing. I begged Him to save those who were wounded or hurt. I prayed that
they might get the hospital soon, and I was also surprised with the help some
motorcyclists where giving the driver to get his way open (it´s the first time
I see them being a blessing, rather than an upsetting problem on the streets).
I
wanted to check my emails boxes. I had no idea on the mess I had there, but I
left the inbox same way I found it: Out of order, unclassified.
While I
was surfing over pages of letters, looking for the one I needed, I found
several I had forgotten; so I started to read them all soon, as I was reminded
of things I needed to relearn.
There
is trash in my mind. Sometimes I leave it there without noticing, but sometimes
these torn papers can be useful to reread…
Mónica,
the one I lost sight of in Colombia, spoke to this living life that dies. She
reminded me things I had forgotten and spared me from doing wrongs. I relearnt
how adult love should be, what it´s meant for, and that I should not be led by
decisions that would damage or cause any to suffer wrongs.
One
thing is having a poor self-esteem, but another issue is the evolvement of a
human being interacting with others, following his/her hunches, likes or desires…
After
getting the information I searched letter by letter, I felt better. Wow! It was
releasing. It was like meeting her twice, and it has been several days I had a little
pain in my left arm… I won´t go to any doctor. If it is what I suspect, let it
be done. If it is what it is not, let it happened: I don´t want to live any
longer.
I do
not care what any may think of or say to me. Life is a decision, it´s an option
and the one I´d like to live it´s not at the corner.
I´ve
been telling God, long ago, that I don´t want to live like my mother (to resume
this, her attitude sucks) and often I´ve told her -kidding with some irony-
that now I know why my dad left (I´m
told -even by dreams- I should leave her, but I hadn´t left some strings and
apron).
Honor
your parents! (but if they dishonor you, don´t clap).
Love
them all! (but if someone hurts you, don´t expect a nice picture taken).
I was
tired these days. I needed a relieving break. And I slept well last night.
I woke
up early, before the time I set my alarm clock to wake me up (because I planned
to go home to rest from city people and its burden of stress).
After
chewing those thoughts those letters gave me, I felt happy for those people I
have known and met. I´m happy because some may leave same way I left, and I´m sure
we never meant it that way, but such is life: We give and receive.
Show your ways
I think
it´s good to show us the way we are. There are people who like to play games to
show who they really are or what they want. Sometimes we hide ourselves in our childish
ideas, dreams, longs or fears, but these all serve to cover up the truth that
must be shown, to pile up too many things over reality, and honesty should be
open like our wounded hearts -hurt flesh- to receive opportune healing or
acknowledgement.
Now I
guess why Mónica changed. I know my reasons, but I gave half of what I could
give. I do not fully trust. I don´t give my all, and time has given me lessons
to keep on.
She
needed more than I had, more than I
gave her, and that´s ok: She was right. I was not the one she thought she
needed. Besides, I had some switches on to be tear-proof conditioned and I
didn´t do my best.
Was I
living with her alone? Was I content with all her ways? (None of both)
I´m
thankful for all the lessons some people had told me. Friends, like Richard, told
me there is truth (and lies) everywhere we go, the exception is if we learn to walk
with God (I can use -and abuse- His name, but I´ll finally pay my wrongs)
Living
under somebody´s parents is not like living in your home. Others can be cherished,
behaving better than your family; but only those are your bones. Blood doesn´t
come with your family bonds and feelings.
When I
moved outside Venezuela I moved to be free from bondage; but I made a mistake I
did not correct soon, and now I see what I missed: A good woman and her family.
Sometimes
we have to put on things we dislike, and my disadvantage was being under
somebody´s roof:
·
If I fasted her family knew it and said anything on
the contrary.
·
If I wanted to learn on the internet, they ruled over
me and set me a schedule…
We, as
Christians, have to toil our pace. Our rights have a price.
We can
be vulnerable (we always are) but
disadvantages are to be utterly reduced.
I
remembered several sad stories Mónica told to me... The man she had before I
came into her life, insisted too much on her. She disliked him a lot. She could
not like him, so he begged and begged, and she gave him a chance.
The sad
things started when she was despised, hurt and lately cheated…
I liked
the way Mónica and I shared, but we allowed ourselves some minor mistakes that
broke our relationship and those faults spoiled good things we could be
enjoying now (but we bet our decisions)
(we were quite different)
There
are many things involved in loving. One part of it is visceral and quite
selfish: We love those who we like. We
“love” because we´re being loved by those we like/liked. Those beings we don´t
know, those we don´t like, are set apart in the seat of lost things, and
they´re there waiting in case somebody comes to claim for them, visiting the
emptiness of the abandoned department.
Love is a choice.
Those
who are prettier than others suffer more than we, as ugly people. Those who are
handsome commit more decisional mistakes than those who are not richly blessed
with beauty or the utter attractiveness we lacked. The world gives what it
takes…
Appearance
helps to get a job, to be coped with in certain social status and to be popular,
but character endures shortcomings. Some have used popularity to reach the scene
plateau, but character helps you and
I to walk assured.
I know
of people who were beautiful in their youth. I know the people they thought
they were and know what they now think (and felt) when being rejected to be
left behind, for being fat, “ugly” or poor. Our eyes –believed or not- sometimes are a disadvantage: I know it well. I
have a short list of names, and peoples, who see like I saw…
There´s
a nice woman who told me her story: She was
rich, thin, with a beautiful body… But time cashed her back everything she
thought she owned: Marriage, her family and the money she thought belonged to
her.
She has
told me some sad stories of her children. I will not tell those, but she wasn´t
loved by the person she is. She was “loved” for money, she was “loved” by her
body shape, “loved” for sex; but the real woman was hidden until she got old
and sick (that´s happening to me).
What´s
your loving made for?
Why
have I loved those I thought I loved? (Mine is selfishness)
Sex is
a driver. It is a feeling very addictive and much more than food, because of the
strings I made of lust. Money spending is nothing compared to the itching of
lust, because of the power of its addiction; but it ceases when getting old,
when getting sick and really poor.
I have
seen many people who have healed (I´m on my way to healing).
I have
seen those who lack a leg, an arm… Those paralyzed by genuine physical reasons,
and I know they have much more real ailments and mental handicaps than those
who do not consider themselves richly blessed, when being complete, as a whole
being blessed.
I have
seen the effort they do to move a tottering leg, to control their unsteady arm
or whole body, and some of us argued against God because we´re not smart, rich
or terribly handsome. (Why do I blame God? Did my father or mother talked to
Him first? Was I asked in prayers?)
Inwardly
we are selfish (I know I am).
I know
what I can do and what others expect me to do (I left some screwed up).
I´m
used to walk by sight, I can´t deny
it (who dares to say they´re not too?).
I like
youth rather than being old, but we came here to be tested and that weak
character will be changed (or divinely despised).
Time is
giving us a lesson we learn, sooner or later: The core being of us is beneath outer
skin and this withers with the proud of years, pains, to take out what´s
inside.
What is
leaving corpses when we die? (The spirit)
Isn´t
it nothing, but dust, that remains when our soul goes where God has chosen?
Soul is
the software for the hardware of “beauty”. Many people have wonderful software
working on bad hardware.
Regrets?
I´ll be one, if I don´t change (Yet!)
Ideally,
both software and hardware must match. But I have seen there´s no perfection on
earth.
The
hardware -too often- cannot be changed; but I´ve seen the software can be finely
tuned and updated: I
want my soul (software) updated.
The
software, alone, serves for nothing; but I´ve seen those who overcame their
pains and mental ailments.
A.T. March
2013
