Tag Archives: spirituality

Monday Afternoon Ramblings

March 19, 2012 D.A. Adams 2 Comments

FantaSciCon was a blast. I had one of the best all around convention weekends of my career, from meeting new friends to selling a few books to simply relaxing. A very special thanks to Dutch and Mickey for having me down, and an even bigger thanks to everyone who was there. What the crowd lacked in quantity, it more than made up for in quality, and it’s always reinvigorating to be surrounding by intelligent, creative, passionate people who know so much more about so many things than I do. Con weekends always humble me in the best possible way by reminding me that this world is full of amazing people.

I will admit that on Friday, I was a little worried about the weekend because the crowd was pretty small, but as the weekend progressed and I got to have long, detailed discussions with the majority of the people there, I recognized that the intimacy of the show was more important than the volume. More than once, I’ve left much larger shows feeling as if I had barely been noticed by the crowd, but as I went around Sunday afternoon saying my good byes, I realized that virtually everyone there had at least learned my name. Dutch and Mickey both expressed that I had been a good guest and was welcome back to either of their two shows any time I wanted. To me, that’s more important than making a small splash at a huge show.

Other than Dutch and Mickey, I don’t want to mention anyone by name for fear of leaving someone out, but if you and I spent more than two minutes engaged in conversation this weekend, please know that I enjoyed getting to know you. Your stories and perspectives inspired me, and I’m grateful for the opportunity to have gotten to know you, whether for the first time or in more depth than before. I’m also grateful that all of you so graciously accepted me into the “family.” This weekend will always have a special place in my heart as one of the brightest spots of my career, and you people made this experience more meaningful to me than even attending Dragon*Con as a guest author. There, I was just another face in the crowd. Here, I was one of you, and that means so much more.

One of the coolest things that happened to me personally was finding someone who had bought a copy of Brotherhood six years ago in Chattanooga. He recognized the name of the book and remembered reading it. More importantly, he liked it enough to buy books two and three. Most importantly, he and I got to sit and talk for several hours over the course of the weekend, and he shared with me much of his passion and genius for mechanical engineering. That’s an example of what I meant before about being humbled. We writers are often guilty of believing ourselves smarter than everyone else, but getting to listen to someone who is truly gifted with a tangible skill talk in detail about his work reminded me that in the grand scheme of things, I’m just a dude who tells stories. And this weekend, I needed to be reminded that I’m just a guy with pain and difficulties and struggles, the same as everyone else in this world.

General Posts

Ides of March Ramblings

March 15, 2012 D.A. Adams 10 Comments

Warning: profanity ahead.

Here’s the simple, honest truth of where I am as a person: my tolerance for other people’s bullshit is gone. If I didn’t directly cause the issue that’s got your ass puckered, don’t turn your ire on me because the backlash will be painfully honest, unfiltered, and more than likely profane. If I did create the issue, I’ll be the first to apologize and make amends for my transgression, but if I didn’t, don’t even think about taking it out on me. When I was young and insecure and weak, I let too many people walk all over me and take advantage of me and trample my self-esteem, but the great thing about a little stroll through hell is that it reforges your will into something stronger, something more resilient, and at times something a little meaner.

My trip through hell mostly consisted of losing my children and learning to live with that emptiness in my heart. I was stripped bare to my soul and forced to look at myself void of any facade. I saw myself pretty clearly: the flaws, the scars, the wounds, and the good. In those darkest moments, when I truly was alone and had nothing, something quite amazing happened. I learned to love myself. I have every excuse in the universe to be a son of a bitch, a user, a junkie, a drunk, or a derelict, but instead of allowing others to rob me of the goodness and decency in my heart, I’ve continued to live by compassion, respect, loyalty, devotion, and enterprise, and no one on this earth will ever dampen my self-esteem again.

I’ve also, quite literally, faced my own mortality three times so far. At 8, I got a serious blood infection from a tick bite and at the worst weighed 40 pounds. Obviously, I was too young then to comprehend the gravity of that situation, but as an adult, I get it. At 16, I endured the shotput accident and learned the fragility of life. At 38, I thought my body was failing me and had to deal with the prospect of losing my independence and possibly my life before my children were grown. To a man like me, that’s about as terrifying as it gets, but I’ve endured all three and come through the other side stronger, wiser, and yes, a little harder.

So before you step to me with some self-generated bullshit or something someone else has done to ruffle your feathers, you better take a long, close look in my eyes and make sure you’re prepared for the blow-back because I will not tolerate it, not from you, not even from my sons. I’ve paid my motherfucking dues and have earned the right to stand up for myself. And you best believe me when I say if I can live without my kids in my life every day, I damn sure can live without you, no matter who you are. If you come at me with respect and treat me with dignity, you’ll find a pretty decent man who will offer you courtesy and compassion, tolerance and acceptance, but if you cross my line in the sand, just be forewarned that this hardened piece of hickory has a little sting to it.

General Posts

Wednesday Morning Ramblings

March 7, 2012 D.A. Adams 8 Comments

A dull thud tapped me on the forehead, like someone had taken their palm and bumped me playfully. The next thing I knew, I was sitting on the ground with two shotputs in my lap, which strange because I’d only been carrying one. I rolled them away and tried to get my bearings, but everything was a swirl of colors and sounds. Then, I felt a tickle on my eyebrow, like sweat was dripping, so I reached up to wipe it away and pulled back a hand coated in blood. That’s when I knew something bizarre had happened.

On this day in 1989 at roughly 3:30 in the afternoon, I nearly lost my life. An 8 lb. shotput had struck me on the right side of the head just above the hairline. I suffered a nasty laceration, exposing my skull, a severe brain contusion, and at the time, when they still graded concussions, the highest grade concussion on the chart. Fortunately, it had hit me on the hardest part of the skull and didn’t fracture or even crack the bone. Also, because of the angle, it mostly glanced off my head instead of impacting with full force. I spent three days in the hospital, lost 20 lbs. from the trauma, and literally nearly died. To this day, I live with some symptoms of post-concussion syndrome.

For many years, I wallowed in self-pity for everything the accident took from me: mostly the opportunities to play college football and join the marines on an ROTC scholarship. Then, one day I woke up and realized that I was fortunate simply to be alive. Today, as I mark the 23rd anniversary of the day that changed my life, I want to focus more on what the accident has given me, namely an appreciation for my life and my creativity. Without those, I wouldn’t be the man I am today, and I’m fairly happy with that man.

In terms of appreciation, I see each day as a blessing, as time I’ve been granted by grace. Even with all the turmoil and difficulties of the last five years, being alive and on this earth allows me the opportunity to learn and grow and laugh and love. I’ve gotten to experience fatherhood, and if it took enduring that accident a hundred times to have my sons, line me up. In terms of creativity, I’m convinced that at least in part, the injury awakened some part of my brain that had mostly been dormant. At the very least, it forced me to turn my attention away from athletics and towards writing, so I see now that the accident has given me far more than it took.

Not too long ago, I found Bobby, the boy who had mistakenly thrown it, and got to tell him, after years of needing to share this, that I had never harbored any ill-will for him, even during the worst of my headaches and the darkest of days. We were unsupervised kids, and even if he had had been trying to hit me, there was no way he could have done so on purpose. It was just a dumb, fluke accident. I hope he knows in his heart that he wasn’t to blame, and I hope he doesn’t carry around any misplaced feelings of guilt. Bobby, if you happen to read this, I love you, man.

So today, as I remember that day and the subsequent years of symptoms, I ask all of you to do one thing. Contact those you love most and tell them how you feel. Don’t wait. Do it now because you never know what split-second, dumb fluke could end their or your life. Embrace your darkest moments, for even those days are blessings. None of us are promised anything on the other side; everything beyond this world is pure speculation, so cherish each day on this earth. Any day above ground is a good day.