Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2017 07 07 Journal Excerpt: Page 45 July 7, 2017

Seasons come, and seasons go. With the seasons, the moments that we build can stay with us forever, like the seasons.

 

2012 was a year filled with seasons that were filled with memories that were built from moments that will stay with me for many seasons to come.

 

Wait a minute, grab a moment and build a memory. It’s as easy as 1, 2,

 

dp

 

***

 

Page 45

 

Through the cold months, my writing found a way to keep me company. The prompts, the assignments, the poems and short stories and essays helped to take my mind off things so that I may enjoy different trips through a kaleidoscope of characters, destinations, situations and reminders of my own life. There were days when I would write a whole chapter for my fiction story, and on those days, the amount of video footage that was running through my head was amazing. As the story played, the words appeared on the screen, and before I knew it, a chapter was staring back at me, often times to the tune of a dozen pages. I explained to the writers in my Saturday group how I was writing what was playing in my mind, and one of the writers told me that she remembered that Stephen King often wrote in similar ways during the early years of his career. I didn’t believe it at the time, but I heard the same from a couple other writers, which caused me to take a step back and try to figure out how to deflate my swollen head and ego back to their original size.

 

Writing for me became a form of therapy. It allowed me to travel through my visions, my thoughts, my personal perceptions in a way that nothing else did. The more I wrote, the more I discovered things about my past, my present, my family, my childhood, my hates and loves and usually at the end of the day, when I shut down the computer, I felt as good as I did during the summer nights, sitting in the living room in Little Falls near an open window, feeling the cool evening breeze whispering in through the screen. That same sense of purpose, of life came rushing through me, and as I walked out of the make shift computer room here in Clinton, the same one where I am right now, well, it was a transformation of time, and of emotions.

 

We were able to celebrate the winter season throughout those frozen months. As a family, my wife and I, along with our son and grandson tried to gobble up as much memory making moments as possible.Jack was 6, and when I was near him and I heard his laughter, I felt like I was six and a half. I remember one afternoon, we were all out in the back yard. There were paths that I had shoveled near the back of the garage, and the snow was probably 2 feet deep, or there abouts. Jack came running up to me and pushed me backwards, causing me to fall back into the deep snow. He was laughing, I was laughing, and my wife was hollering for me not to move. I asked her what the matter was, and she hollered, “There’s a clump of dog poop right next to your head!”

 

Well, needless to say, I didn’t move an inch. Matter of fact, I don’t think I took another breath. Our son, God bless his heart, and strong arms, came running over, and with the help of Jack, the two Lyons men helped pull me back up straight, and out of the doggy doo danger.

 

I’ll never forget that moment, and writing about it now instantly took me back to that great afternoon with three of the most special people in the world.

 

Well the snows came and went, the icicles grew long and dripped their way towards spring, and if I remember correctly, that spring was one of the warmest we had seen in a while. I was glad to see the spring come along, but it just didn’t seem to have the same feeling as it usually did for me. Not having the vision to go along with the warming temps really seemed to be robbing me of a certain characteristic of the season that I had grown to admire and cherish. I kept telling myself that the magic of the season was still there, and it was up to me to figure out how to bring it to me. Perhaps what I didn’t realize was that the more important ingredient of the recipe would be for me to go to it. Another mobility lesson that I never would have expected.

 

That spring saw me continuing the mobility climb with Rosemary. We had traversed our way through the winter sidewalks, and as we stomped the snowy slush from our shoes, the lesson moved along towards the next intersection, with the promise of a toasted bagel and a hot cup of coffee waiting for us on lower Main Street.

 

Sarge and I had formed a friendship that allowed us to talk to each other about the day, the week, the past month, family ties, individual obstacles that we found ourselves working through, and the level of trust and respect that had grown for me was something that you can’t put a price tag on. When I made an error during a lesson, I knew instantly that she was cocking her head to one side, but also that she knew I would be able to figure it out and work my way through it. There were though moments though when her guidance was crucial, and as always, was only a few steps behind me.

 

I think that with any relationship, trust and respect are two of the most important elements of that, or any relationship. Without them, an honest level of communications isn’t possible. I’ve always tried to give folks the best that I have to offer. The old saying that you never get a second chance to make a first impression is true, but after that first impression, the work is far from over.

 

Rosemary injected so many different things into my life. Facing my fears and finding a way to build confidence through it all did take a lot of courage on my part, but it also took a ton of guidance, of experience, of determination and devotion, all of which were part of my O&M instructor, Rosemary.

 

Thanks once again Sarge.

 

To be continued…

 

 

2016 04 04 Poetry: I April 4, 2016

Another day, another dollar three eighty five. Oh my. Look at the shiny coins.

Squirrel!

Ok then. I’m back, and I’m focused, or am I?

Have you ever thought you knew what you needed to know, only to find out that you were incredibly wrong? Yes, this has happened to a goat I know on a number of occasions. Actually, on numerous occasions, or is that the same thing?

It’s April 4th, 2016, and don’t look now, but you’re probably eventually going to end up heading towards something that you are totally unprepared for, and it’s probably going to sting, a little, and maybe a lot, but there’s only one way to find out, right?

This poem below is one that I just finished writing a few minutes ago. It’s quick, to the point, and although it continuously seems to avoid the point, it eventually took me to a place I have been a few times, but ended up being completely unfamiliar with.

And then, the day keeps coming atcha.

Thanks for stopping by one more time, and I do hope you keep on finding the courage, the strength, the faith that you’ll end up exactly where you’re supposed to be.

Take care, and here we go, again.

dp

***

I

I’m sorry
I didn’t know
I didn’t think
I didn’t realize

I wasn’t paying attention
I wasn’t looking out
I wasn’t expecting it
I wasn’t ready

I ask for forgiveness
I ask for understanding
I ask for compassion
I ask for guidance

I will try harder
I will try again
I will try one more time
I will try and try

I’m slowly catching up
I’m really working hard
I’m giving it all I’ve got
I’m almost there

I can almost see it
I can almost feel it
I can almost hear it
I can almost sense it

This isn’t the right one
This looks completely different
This seems out of place
This isn’t what I was expecting

Am I in the right place?
Did I make a wrong turn?
Have I misunderstood?
Do I look confused?

I made a mistake
I apologize
I’m sorry
I,

 

2015 10 19 All the Brilliance from All the Stars October 19, 2015

All of the Brilliance from All of the Stars

Part of me feels like its missing. Part of me seems to be misplaced. I know why, but, well, I just don’t know why. Once in a while, I sense that something amazing is coming at me, and for a few seconds I’m overwhelmed by a deep, pulsating surge of energy that causes me to take a deep breath.

I think I know what it is. As a matter of fact, I’m fairly positive I know what it is. It’s strength, courage, kindness, patience, disciplined guidance, unmatched affection and never ending love. It’s a comforting word during a difficult time, an arms folded shit eating grin, a pat on the back followed by a kick in the butt. It’s all the brilliance from all the stars in the universe wrapped in a hug. It’s what I know, what I admire, what I look up to and crave and yearn for and desire. It’s a lasting memory, filled with holiday bows and baseball gloves. It’s a sense of feeling, unmatched by anything under the warming sun. It’s a pick up truck parked under a maple tree.

With so many thoughts and snap shots spinning ‘round my mind, they all reflect back to the images of my past. They all gently remind me of a towering, powerful figure that represented absolute security. They tell a story not unlike so many others, but uniquely my own.

They write in the sky with script from above, and for this, I am blessed.

What I miss, what I lean into, what I listen for are those same strong tones, that same rolling laugh, that comforting voice ringing through our home that used to put me to sleep so many nights.

I am a grateful man, a grateful child, a grateful son.

I miss you Dad, and I thank you.

 

2015 04 11 Poetry: Doorstep April 11, 2015

Hi again. Miss me much? grin

Like I was saying, I goofed somewhere along the line, and this is the second post of the day. It catches me up where I should be, at a post a day, but, well, oh well.

When I first lost my sight in 2010, my world changed in a number of different ways. At first, all the different ways were dreadful and awful and ways I didn’t care to take any part with. I just couldn’t imagine spending the rest of my life without sight. No sight? No way, no how! It just wasn’t for me.

It was a few weeks before my attitude changed, and with it, my whole outlook on the rest of my life, which I had forgotten could only happen one day at a time. Sometimes, one hour, or one minute, or even one second at a time, but until I realized that I had no power over what happened to me, I then started working on things that I could change, and they all revolved around, through and inside me. Little old me, and nothing else.

I am here today to tell you that although I have many relatively good days, I still have those days that I could do without.

And again, I lean toward those familiar words telling me that I need to start with me, and things will eventually work into some sort of directional flow that I can manage working with.

It ain’t easy, but what worthwhile is?

With each day comes a new opportunity to live, to learn, to work hard and to grow. With each step comes a new challenge, and although the challenges never stop, the method I use to take on these challenges determines how much dust is settling down on the other side.

I wrote this poem rather quickly a week or so ago. It jumped out onto the screen for a reason, and as I read it back, it became clear to me that there are many reasons that I write what I write.

Thanks for stopping by, once again. I really appreciate the comments I have received these past few days, weeks, months and years. It is humbling to say the least and words can’t describe how much gain I have experienced from your help, guidance and chocolate.

Take it easy, and here we go again.

***

Doorstep

Staring through the open door, I try to find the horizon.
Tender warmth from the morning sun lights up a smile on my face.
I breathe in deep and shift my weight from one foot to the other.
Stepping through the door, a rush of anticipation scurries up my spine.
The possibilities of another day speak softly in my ear.
Eagerly, I clench my cane and tap along the doorstep.
Again I breathe deep as familiar sounds fill the morning air.
School bells to the south, dogs barking to the north, train whistle ahead to the east.
A cool wind from the west twists slowly through the silver maple leaves.
Again I tap the tip of my cane along the doorstep.
With head high and shoulders back, I step ahead into the morn.
A new day wrapped in a new beginning slowly constructs my past.
Left by right, step by step, I follow my sweep.
Concrete markers guide the taps of my cane further away from home.
An endless path of possibilities coaxes my shoes through the day.
The sun climbs, the mind calculates, the world turns as the journey continues.

 

2013 09 22 Higher Powered September 22, 2013

A friend of mine started a blog the other day, and parts of their first few posts have included their relationship with God. What a wonderful way to start a new blog.

 

You can find there new blog at the following link:

http://www.wwannwrites.wordpress.com

 

I have never thought of myself as a real religious person, but then again, I have probably compared myself, religiously speaking,  to those who you see preaching and trying to convert others all the time. That’s not for me and it more than likely never will be.

 

I believe in a higher power. I choose to call that higher power God. I have always believed in God. Even though I had never seen his form, I still believed in Him and still do to this day. I believe that the beauty I see in each day is a gift from God. I believe that we all have the ability and right to believe in Him, or any other form of what we choose to conceive and believe in. It’s a wonderful right that we all have, and it is a gift that we hopefully will all take part in some day.

 

I also believe that if we choose, we do not have to believe in a higher power. If we choose not to, it is our right and no one should tell us other wise. I understand that some of those who believe will always try to make believers out of those who don’t, and vice versa. It’s common human nature to try and influence others to grab hold of your own beliefs, in religious ways, as well as in other ways concerning other things. It’s what we do and it’s who we are. In order for us to feel more involved with our own beliefs, some of us need to have others around us believe in the same sorts of things, whether they be loyalty to a sports team, love of a certain automobile, fanciful fetishes of fine cuisines, or what we feel is the Creator of everything that is. Human conformity is what helps keep the passion in our hearts and the purpose in our strides.

 

I believe in God. I always have. I don’t know what He looks like, or sounds like, but I know what He feels like, and it is wonderful. I have prayed before and felt the gentle touch of His hand on my shoulder. I have felt Him pick me up and show me which way to go. I said that I don’t know what He sounds like, but I have felt His soothing voice run through my body and soul, taking the innocence of a young child inside by the hand, taking the scared, wandering young man by the hand, taking the lost, pleading billy goat by the hand and showing him the way to go.

 

I don’t have anything against those who don’t believe in God. I don’t hate or dislike or look down on or make fun of their decisions. I can only tell them how important my God is to me, and hope that something in their lives turns them around the corner and right into His arms.

 

There have been times in my life when I wasn’t too sure if God was on my side. I never doubted His existence, but there were times when I wasn’t sure if he was looking out for me. Things just didn’t go well at times, and yes, there were those lowly moments when I actually felt like I had to blame Him for what was going on with my life. It’s not a very good moment when we are willing to make a deal with the devil himself to avoid life’s trials and tests. Such was how it was when I lost my vision. I was alone, lost, crying inside, scattered amongst my bitter thoughts, and there wasn’t much I wouldn’t have done to get my vision back.

 

I have prayed so much since then, and I have been answered with the simple truth to all my prayers. I believe now that I lost my vision so that I might be able to learn how to see. One for the other, this for that, true vision for misguided views. My sight was replaced with an inner vision that I have gained. I am still learning what it is that I’m looking at, but with His divine guidance, along with inspiration from others who have slid into my life, I will understand what it is that I am supposed to see. So far, it has been a look through my past, my heart, and my soul, taking me through the visions of yesterday and hopefully preparing me for the visions of tomorrow.

 

I believe in God, and I welcome you and all your beliefs. With one sun, one moon, one world full of individual desires, we may all be heading in the same direction and not even know it. We may all be learning the same things, just in our own unique time and place. We may all have the same chartered destinations, and we may all have the same goals in mind, but no matter what, we will all see to it in our own time, with our  own beliefs, in our own chosen ways.

 

I have prayed, I have cried, I have fallen to my knees in front of my God. I have told Him that I am sorry for my sins. I have felt His soothing, calming hand upon my soul. I listen for guidance and walk towards tomorrow beside my God.

 

May God bless you all and have a wicked good day.