Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Promise

Never give up
And I will never leave your side.

Never give in
And I will fight the surging tide.

Always look forward
And I will guard your back.

Always reach higher
And I will keep your dreams on track.

Always stay patient
And I will protect your heart.

Always keep moving
And I will honour the start.

Always treasure your love
And I will mend the tatters.

Always smile through the loss
And I will focus on what matters.

Always respect the past
And I will prepare the future.

Always live in the present
And I will plan the adventure.

Always nurture the soul
And I will develop the reason.

Always work smarter
And I will grow each season.

Always remember your character
And I will pave the road.

Always push further
And I will promise the seed is sowed.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Grey and White

Floating in a soft hurry,
No cares,
No worries.

Light winds push and stall,
I watch in silence,
Marvel at its proud fall.

The paths it may travel,
The roads,
The dreams that unravel.

Alone now separated from a whole,
Flying on its own,
The wet winds taking its toll.

Will it stay,
Yet it may go,
Does it bring good fortune this day?

No one sees its flight,
Swinging to and fro,
Quiet in its wake and vulnerable in its own right.

Simple thoughts and wishes,
Single feather,
Brings me unforgettable riches.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

Behind Me on the Road

Autumn is here. The leaves slowly drift off the trees in a lazy swing to the wet ground below. A light mist falls on my shoulders as my thoughts race back and forth. I hurry to scramble up a mountain of doubt. To prove it wrong. To prove there is a reason. That there is a purpose. That my road is true. That it is paved with good intention.

It can be so desperately cold at times but my faith keeps me warm. Adversity. The maker of Kings. I wonder what it takes, what is necessary, to fight your way back up the heap after you were tossed to the bottom. I guess only time will tell. I am only concerned with starting the climb once again.

Here you go, and may you enjoy.

What music plays when a heart breaks? Is it the soundtrack of a continuous lost song, forgotten, now remembered? Do we pluck simple strings to elicit emotion, to pull tears unbidden without permission; hoping and praying forgiveness?

Mine has broken again and again this year. So many ups and downs. I know the road is there. I can feel it. I just can't see through this damn thick rainy fog. I just want to believe it is leading me in the right direction. No matter the cost. I want to believe.

So many questions. Not near enough answers. What is next? Where do I go? How will I get there? Do I stay here? Can I forge a better opportunity out of mere will? What was the purpose of four years of education? Was it not for a better life? A better future? I faced an addiction and accepted sobriety in order to stage the first of many victories. But I have to ask when does the disappointment lose the battle with the happiness? When? Why? Where? What? How? And the litanies keep coming and coming. No end in sight.

Pillow is wet at night. Throat is raw. Quiet whispers of sadness. Internal replies of confidence. Enough. Never enough. Sleep. Focus on the now. Race. Race. Race. Focus on the now. It will come to you. Trust. Believe. Listen. It will come to you.

Peace is coming. I can feel it. I know that hard work is necessary again. That results, a reason for hard work, happiness, that everything and more is coming. I want to believe that this is all a lesson. One day I will look back behind me on the road and understand. My faith is surreal. Pushes me. Drives me. Steadies me. Holds me upright when I want to give in to the buckling in my knees. Stay the course it tells me. Stay the course. There is reason. There is rhyme. There is purpose. It was not all for naught.

To lead is to risk failure. It is knowledge from the experience. To forge ahead when sanity urges reprieve. It is lonely. To lead is to gamble. It is desire to grow. To shape a dream from nothing but mere hope and passion. It is ephemeral. It is life. To lead is to inspire. It is reason to breathe. To see you gave it everything. That you gave it all.

This is where I am. A transition to a new level in life I never imagined was possible. I have tasted so many failures and rejections this past year that my pallet is rough and scored with slivers of disappointment. Yet I know the end to all of that is near. That a new beginning waits for me. Little, subtle, hide-and-seek glimpses into the echoes of my future. My memoir, after so many years of hard work and harder work still, is in its initial stages of editing. Each day, I read new messages from my editor about how we can shape its direction, small notes of what to leave out and what to take out. Every day a new song collapses the ache in my heart and rebuilds it with hope and desire to overcome. Fight, each song says, show your worth. Show that you are better than you can even possibly understand.

The truth is that even though my heart breaks with each chord, it is also strengthened with each word. Someone else has been on the same road as mine. To know that I am not alone in it all is more strength than I could ever ask. I sit back at times and look over my shoulder at my life. The mistakes. The memories. The moments in time that developed a life for the making. I stand back and look at the boy who struggled to find his place in the world and look inside at the man who only wants to find stable footing in the here and now. The man has laid the groundwork. Now he is told to wait. The rest will follow.

Until we meet again, my friends. Until we meet again.

"What were all those dreams we shared those many years ago / What were all those plans we made now left beside the road / Behind us on the road / More than friends I always pledged cause friends they come and go / People change as does everything / I wanted to grow old / Just want to grow old." - Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The Absurdity of it All

It started the other night when my friend dropped by from Toronto. “It was a total whim,” he said. “I was walking through the Montreal airport and thought about heading back to the Maritimes.” He laughed and gave me thump on the chest. “I bought a ticket and here I am.”

“Good to see you brother,” he adds and looks me in the eyes. “You are looking healthy.”

I swig a gulp of beer and think about his words for a second. We are so tight and yet so far apart. Distance is one factor. He has many play-dates to keep him company. I have one. He still likes to drink. He still enjoys his highs. I only recently picked up an occasional social drink. Drugs are not a factor in my life. And it never will be again. My former lifestyle is no longer imminent in my time and day.

But I still think about it.

As recently as last week when my roommate smoked on the balcony and the pungent aroma drifted into my room. I thought about joining him. I held back. There are more important things in life. She is more important. Our love is more important. I. Am. More. Important.

My friend opens his cigarette package and lights one up to add to his already endless line of heavy smoke. My lungs wince. How I want to ask for one little drag, one little puff, maybe even a whole cancer-stick of my own. I pull a mouthful from my beer and stay silent. It is so hard sometimes. The demon inside is sick of its prison. The walls drain his creation. Let me out, it screams, let me the hell out. There are no windows here. I can’t breathe. Let me out.

I stand outside the door and listen quietly as it beats its head against the slick, moldy walls. Again. And again. And again. Over and over. Again and again. I reach down and softly ensure that the door is locked. Touch the padlock and forget where I buried the key. I turn on my heel and walk away. My dusty footprints are the only trace of my presence. The way it has to be.

Here you go and may you enjoy.

Will anyone who is not ever understand what it is like to be one who is? To walk with thoughts consumed of how to get it? Who might have it? Where to find money to pay for it? To use it as an escape from a life full of pain, full of plain, full of disdain for the uncool. The ones who never understand. The ones with the snide looks. The ones with the upturned nose. The ones on the outside of cool. The ones who walk without thoughts of how to get it. Of who might have it. Of where to find money to pay for it.

The memories cling to my matter with chemical claws and unforgiving nails scratch and rip my will to ignore. The amount of stress existing in my life at this moment is numbing. All I can think of is what needs to be done. Of the loss. To replace what is missing. To find myself once again. This stress has taken me prisoner. It is the jailer. But I refuse to beat the walls with my skull. I refuse to scream. I just look for another way out. There must be a way. There has to be.

It is deep. In its depth there is no pain. No plain. Not even disdain for the uncool. How can I forget walking city streets, high and free, floating above ground. No cares. No worries. Give me more. Give me. Give me. Give me. Free me from the constraints. Free me. Free. Me.

It is inside this prison that the demon lays. Next to me. Breathing on me. I can smell its fetid, rotten stench. Let me out, it says, let me out. I want to play, it says, I want to taste the bitter pallet of failure again. Let me out. Give in to me. Just give in. Come on. You know somewhere deep inside, that deep hole you stuck me in, that you miss it. Give in to me. Damn it. Damn you. Give in to me. Let me out.

No. As long as there is a breath to pull from my lungs, you will never get out. I faced your need. I denied it. I hold my head with pride now. You will never be the reason that it will hang in shame. I am alive. Alive.

Freedom of a different kind is my vision now. I don’t miss the guilt. I don’t miss the glaze. I don’t miss the permanent imprint in god knows how many sofas. I do miss the fact that special moments in my life were torn from my grasp. That I stood in front of so much beauty with numb thoughts and cold emotion. That I robbed myself of the simplistic rush of a waterfall, the glisten of fresh snow, the soft feel of warm grass underfoot. I do miss that.

I embrace my reality. Strange. I am learning lessons that lay, mortar by mortar, brick by brick, inch by inch, the groundwork and foundation of what is to be. The structure of complete and utter happiness just around the bend. Stability. Peace of mind. Success. Clean. Sober. Warmth. Light. Sunshine. Love.

I talked to my friend recently. Told him that the drinking, drugs, womanizing, that it was not him. I just went for it. He would either accept it or deny it. He stayed true to form. Thanked me. Told me there was only one me. I laughed.

It’s true. There is only one me. No room here for addiction any longer. I take a deep breath in and let a bigger breath out. It will be okay. I am doing what needs to be done. I have found a way out. And I will come out a newer, stronger, happier version of the person who went in. And that person was impressive. To say the least.

So now I wait. I rock back and forth gently on my heels. Muscles tense and strain against patient tendons and neurons. Don’t jump the gun, says a small voice of wisdom, don’t jump the gun. Be patient. The biggest prize of all awaits. No need to rush. Be patient. You have come this far. The rest of it is only a mere moment in time.

Until we meet again, my friends. Until we meet again.

“Its not a habit. Its cool. I feel alive. If you don’t have it you are on the other side…the deeper you stick in your vein the deeper the thought. There is no more pain. I am in heaven. I am a god. I am everywhere. I feel so hot. Its not a habit. Its cool. I feel alive. If you don’t have it you are on the other side. I’m not an addict…maybe that’s a lie.” – Sarah Bettens of K-Choice

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

These Are the Seasons

A single year in our lives can constitute phenomenal change, challenge, and decision. Change who we were to who we become, challenge to overcome adversity, and decision to face the morning with new resolve. This is where I am. I have become, I have overcome, and I have decided. I will change, I will challenge, and I will decide.

A full compilation of seasons has come and gone. Winter to spring, spring to summer, summer to fall, and fall to winter once again. Each represent a time in my life where a decision was made, a change took place, and a challenge grew a life in leaps and bounds. I look in the mirror and each genuine smile is a new reason to forgive if only to forget. I taste life ever so palpable and sweet.

Here you go, and may you enjoy.

Clean. No more smoke in my lungs. I breathe easier and easier each day. I sleep better. No coughing. No guilt; no pressure to succumb. It was never me. Yet it was something that came so easy for so long. I make the decision and it is easy once again. Give it up. Start over again. But at what cost?

Betrayal. Loss of her. A love once so strong that was actually transparent as the rising wind, blowing her away from me, blowing away a life so close to my grasp. I see her in the hallway, and she looks at me like a stranger might on a busy street corner. No sign that two years had come and gone with passion, love, hope for a better day. Nothing. It is not until months later that I find out there was someone else. The challenge to grow becomes evident once again.

Battle. I fight through the nights when all I want is to fill my lungs with release, with smoke, with failure. Instead I fight to survive until morning, until sleep, until success. I fight through the daily illusion of student at morning, consultant at day, and addict at night. I sit through meeting after meeting, listen to the sad stories, the abuse, the uncertainty. I leave with the knowledge that my path is right and that it is paved with true intention. I walk in my door, smell the pungent and acrid smoke, hear the laughter, and ask for courage. One more night became one more morning. Outside the snow falls.

Time. Days turn into weeks and weeks blur into nights of bottomless bottles, clinking of tide, and lost memories mired deep in a liquid fog. When will enough be enough? When will it be time? Soon. Soon you will find who you are meant to be. Patience. Weeks become months. Exams, papers, more exams, and then, a decision. Where do I go? Bermuda? Australia? New Zealand? Stay in Halifax? Where next? Write my last exam, the next day write my last paper, and then I am free from my commitment. A voice says go for it. Go for it. Buck the naysayers and the unsure because they never understood you anyway. It never was and never will be for them. It is for those who believe. Go for that dream. Outside the flowers wake and embrace the light.

Complete. I walk down an aisle, feel the paper in my hands, see my mother beam at me. A graduate. A degree. It was supposed to be our day. I listen to her speak about her educational experience, think about how we were meant to leave together. Make a road trip. Start a life. Instead, I listen to her speak of a new destination. A place where I once lived yet where I have no place by her side. The sadness wells in my throat and robs me of the true happiness of a day that can never be replaced. We go to dinner and celebrate our success. I confess my love, watch her cry, listen to her tell me as we both agree that it had to be. Days later I drive her to the airport and watch her walk out of my life. Gone.

Write. And write. And write some more. Blank paper becomes pregnant with potential as words scrawl across the surface and a plan, dare a dream, becomes a reality. I sit in front of people with my future in their hands and yet I do not bat an eyelash. This is my destiny. I have been walking to it since one fateful morning after waking up in a hospital bed, my skull fractured and my back shattered. I always knew that adversity only develops character. That the hardest challenge is only accepting that choice. The rest is easy. Outside the sun shines and splits the ground with love, with hope, splits my sadness apart and replaces it with faith.

I start my own business. Buy a car, find my own space, do the impossible: ignite a business from scratch without a single client and only letters of intent. I walk the concrete, find people to meet, sell, sell, write, write, and write some more. Each night is spent alone, nothing more than myself and a computer screen. The solitude I wanted so badly becomes a tomb of silence. It is unbearable. I long to smoke away the silence, to inhale the darkness, to break down and admit defeat. Yet I wake in the morning, more alive than the day before, and face the day with courage. I face life with knowledge that my path is right and that it is paved with true intention. Believe. Have faith. Believe. Trust. You are only given what you can handle. Nothing more. Believe, damn you, believe.

Then the night falls and begs me to play. It begs me to come back and join the fray that once almost took my life. You are missed. It is no fun without you. Okay, I say, okay. One more time becomes one more week and one more week becomes one more month. Then came the day I will never forget. The day I said it is enough. It is enough. I decide to face the day without any drugs. I decide to embrace the night sober, with no smoke, no spirit, and only my courage to test the hand of fate. If is this is how it is meant to be, if this is the right path, then I walk it with true intention, with true faith, with love in my heart. Outside the leaves begin to fall.

Opportunity. One single night, on Halloween of all nights, nine years to the day I almost took my own life…I meet her, the woman in control, the woman in charge, the woman with certainty in her step, and beauty in her voice. She meets me, the addict who is sober, the addict who is clean, the addict who believes. We dance. We laugh. We smile. We walk and talk, and laugh some more. I travel to an island far away and laugh with friends I have not seen in years. They see a man they do not know but yet always believed they would one day meet.

Home. I return. We sit. We talk. We laugh. She sings to me in a voice literally stolen from the heavens and trapped on earth. Be patient she tells me. It will all come when it is meant to come. I just want to get to know you, learn you, see if you are truly what I believe. Okay, I say, okay. I tell her that I am glad to be the man she met and that she will never meet the boy I used to be. I like this person she knows. So do I, she says, so do I. Outside the snow begins to fall.

Celebrate. I sit down at a table laden with holiday cheer, share a cup of coffee and not-so-ordinary conversation with my mother. So proud, she says, so proud. Days slowly become the best holiday of cheer, of music, and yet no spirit touches my lips, and no wasted nights passed out in a forgotten mist. Sober. A business ails as a market falls. A decision to make once again. Do I drink the frustration and stress away? Do I roll it all into a simple burn of faith and lose myself in the rising cloud of failure? I smile. Shake my head. Laugh at my demons. Make some calls. Join the market once again and plan for the day when I will once again be my own boss. Adversity. The creator of kings.

I feel that each day is a step forward. A movement, ever so subtle, not to meet a woman meant for me, but to the man who is waiting for me. I am smiling, watching my journey to the place I have been sitting, waiting ever so patient for the man who is clean, the man who is sober, the man who understands that adversity is only a reason to develop character. That one day is another day to place one foot in front of the next. To walk toward my destiny, no matter what it might hold. I know that my path is right because my intention is true. And I will know that when my day comes I will meet it clean, I will meet it sober, and I will recognize the man I have become. The seasons change, the demons call, but the courage to succeed stays with me every step of the way. Nothing but me and true intention.

Until we meet again my friends. Until we meet again.

“Say hello and wave goodbye...we were born before the wind. Who were we to understand? We were born before the wind...say goodbye. Through the rain, hail, sleet and snow...say goodbye."
- David Gray