I don’t mean to impose…But I am the ocean
-Engraving from an early publication of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner written by Samuel Taylor Coleridge-
Coleridge did in fact spell rhyme that way.
It’s hard to feel positive sometimes. It’s hard to see the good in the world when I am feeling closed in on by life. By the crap and filth. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…I really want to break stuff and scream and give anyone who crosses me a whoopin’. But I am told this is most un-Christian so I probably won’t. But brother, it’s a paradox when I find myself praying “God help me with the anger, hurt and rage so I don’t kill some stupid motherfucker who deserves it!” I know the language is probably not that would be found in the translation of a Gregorian chant. But it is honest and I do believe God can cope with it. And I think he feels with me. And I know it helps. My old life, like some old person I no longer know or want to be would probably have gone off and done something real stupid right now. That’s an old game and a young man’s game. I am not going to go that way anymore. But it’s a struggle sometimes.
I have good support and good people who care and love me. One of the most important and committed of my friends is a man who I seek counsel from on everything. He is a good man, a Godly man. And it’s strange but usually I would seek the advice and direction of an older person, it’s an experience thing. But he is my age. I think almost exactly. But he has used his years to educate and refine himself, his mind and I see him and his family and I know he is the real thing. He is not the kind to fall away when I put up resistance to a concept or idea that he presents. I respect that he has stood firm and said “This is how I see it and I believe. You don’t have to, but try to understand and maybe we can meet on this.” Many, actually most people will soften their position on almost anything the second it is pushed on. They lack the fortitude to believe. He doesn’t. And he keeps saying to me “Brother, you can’t blame God for these things, you can’t give God the fault here. These are consequences of your life. You have spent many years making a mess and now you’re cleaning it up. It takes time and you still need to deal with your actions, even if they are past.” I like that, it makes sense. My life isn’t terrible now. It’s in fact pretty good. But the trouble and annoyances I experience all seem to be related to my past. It is simply running out like an old echo. Don’t always like it or think it’s fair but it is honest.
The weather today and the turning month remind me that in a few weeks it will be two years since my father died of a drug over-dose. It’s not going to be an easy anniversary. I miss him, I wonder what it might have been like. It’s so sad. All the events that went with it and the hurt. Like tossing a stone in a pond, the ripples are constant and real. My father wasn’t a bad man, I know hearing about how he died you’d think he might be. But he wasn’t. He was a man with many good and wonderful pieces. But he was a man with hurt and anger he never knew how to carry or what it meant to let go. I love him. I almost want to say I love him now. Because I never knew how to love him when he was alive. And this makes me feel sad and guilty. Though I think I understand why, I understand the reasons. It doesn’t make it any easier.
So here I am on a storm-tossed sea. Praying for a calm wind and a good star to follow. Set sails for the morning.