Tag Archives: spirituality

General Posts

Thursday Morning Ramblings

Leave a comment


I’m trying to heal, learn, and grow as a person.  For too many years of my life, I’ve allowed others to make me feel unworthy.  I’ve allowed unrealistic expectations of who I should be and how I should act and how much I should give dictate my life.  As a result, in the past, I’ve allowed the women in my life to treat me with disrespect, and I bent over backwards to prove my worth, to give more and more and more, until I was left cold and empty, feeling used up and discarded.  Those women may have different perspectives and versions, but I know how I was made to feel, and over the last four years, as I’ve struggled to redefine myself as a person and a man, I’ve grown less and less tolerant of any act of disrespect.  Part of this process I’ve been going through has taught me my worth, and I will not settle for anything less than how I deserve to be treated.

If that makes me come across as selfish, so be it.  Life is too short to be told and made to feel as if I don’t do or give enough when I know damn well I give more than I take.  Nobody, and I do mean nobody, will ever make me feel that way again, not my children, not a friend, not a lover, not my family.  I’ve endured too many trials, from the shotput accident to the divorce to the struggles in my career to the heartbreaks to this recent illness, to allow myself to be mistreated.  I will be alone if that’s what it takes.  I’m a loyal and faithful man; when I give myself to a woman, I do not step outside of that relationship.  That alone makes me a fairly rare breed.  Every single time I’ve gotten knocked down, I’ve gotten back to my feet and continued pushing for my goals and dreams.  I may never accomplish all that I want, but it will not be from lack of effort.  That, too, makes me valuable.  The people who don’t really know me can fabricate whatever stories or issues or dramas they need to create in order to paint me as the bad guy, but in my heart, I know the truth of who and what I am as a man.

I know I have a lot of love to offer.  I may not be romantic or sentimental, but I am kind and nurturing.  I may not buy flowers or jewelry, but I do offer a strong shoulder and tenderness.  I may not always say or do the right things at the right time, but I never intentionally lash out or demean people.  I’m not a knight in shining armor, but I am a decent man.  Maybe one day, I’ll find the woman who appreciates me for who I am instead of criticizing me for what I’m not.  If that day comes, hopefully I’ll have healed enough to embrace it.  If it never comes along, I’ll try my best not to grow cold and bitter.  As the Outlaw once sang, “I won’t let it change me not if I can. I’d rather believe in love and give it away as much as I can to those I’m fondest of.”

General Posts

Thursday Morning Ramblings

5 Comments


I’m beat up, half broken-down, tired, and most days feel used up.  Between working in education and living on this roller coaster I call a life, I’m worn to a nub.  Most days, I’m pulled in every direction by student demands, academic duties, promotional efforts, family obligations, and my personal life, and there is very little left in my tank.  Something has to give soon, or I will not make it.  I’m saying these things, not to get pity or encouraging comments or anything else from anyone, but because I need to express just how depleted I am.  Life has beaten me down mercilessly, and I need a break from the beatings.

Here are my biggest issues that I need to work on as an individual to become a healthier, happier person.  First and foremost, I have an unhealthy relationship with food.  If I get angry, I eat.  If I get sad, I eat.  If I experience anything joyful or unpleasant, I eat.  Food is my drug, more than anything else, and for more than a year, I’ve been working on this issue and trying to overcome it.  Some days I succeed; some I fail.  I like to think I’m improving because I’ve lost a lot of weight, going from about a 44 inch waist to now below a 38, but I recognize that this is a battle I’ll have to fight for the rest of my life.

My second biggest issue is my temper.  I can make plenty of excuses for why I have such a short fuse, and many of those excuses are legitimate, justifiable reasons for carrying what I carry.  Nonetheless, I have to learn to let go of my frustrations and anger and become a more calm, laid-back, peaceful person.  I have to do this for myself, for my children, for my family, for the woman I love, and for my future.  If I don’t learn to let go of my anger, I will die too young.  That’s simply a fact.  As a man, I’m willing to admit that I need help overcoming this issue; I need to learn better coping mechanisms and healthier outlets for my frustrations.

In the past, I’ve been criticized from multiple sources for being too open, too public, too personal on this blog, and maybe there’s some truth to that.  Maybe I should keep my life more private.  Then again, this is who I am.  I started this blog as my outlet for expressing my thoughts and feelings on whatever subject happens to appeal to me on that day, and I intend to keep it that way.  I don’t care about creating a facade that tells the world I’m perfect and my life has no flaws.  That’s not authentic, not genuine, and not honest.  My life, just like every single other human being I’ve ever encountered, is flawed.  I’m flawed and am not ashamed of or scared of making those flaws known.  The only way I can grow as a person is to face those flaws head on and try as best as I can to learn and grow from my mistakes.  I happen to do that best by writing about them, by sharing them with my friends, and by listening to what others have to say.  If my openness and transparency is offensive to some or comes across as unprofessional to others, then please accept my apologies, but you don’t have to read this blog or share my life.  Take  me as I am, or don’t.  The choice is yours.  Right now, at this point of my life, my only concern is to heal my wounds and become a better man.

For Collin and Finn

Thursday Afternoon Ramblings

2 Comments


Dear sons, I wish I could describe for you just how much I loved playing sports as a kid.  I didn’t really blossom as an athlete until about 14 or 15, but I loved sports, even when I was a chubby, uncoordinated kid without much skill.  My sport was football, and my position was nose tackle/defensive tackle.  I know I didn’t have the size or talent to ever play pro ball, but if not for my accident, I think I could’ve at least made the roster for a small college.  One of the only things that nags and gnaws at me is the fact I’ll never know the answer to that question.  Was I talented enough to play college football?  I don’t dwell on it often, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think about it from time to time.

I want to share with you one of my fondest memories from the eight years I played.  It was my junior year of high school, and I was 15.  From a couple of years of intense weight-lifting, I was strong beyond my years and had earned a starting spot as the right defensive tackle.  We were playing Cocke County, at the time one of our biggest rivals because our head coach was originally from there and couldn’t stand losing to them.  The left guard who blocked me that night was 5-6 inches taller than me and was pretty athletic.  Play after play, we battled like we were in a street fight.  One play he would beat me, the next I him, and the next, we’d stalemate.  It was without a doubt the most intense one-on-one matchup of my football life.  I left everything I had on the field and played an extremely sound game, giving up hardly any rushing yards to my side.

In the end, we lost the game, but as the teams were shaking hands, he pulled me out of line and hugged me like an old friend.  “That was the most fun I ever had,” he said.  “You’re a warrior, man.”  I thanked him and told him he had played a great game, but in the moment, the sting of the loss hurt too much.  I walked back to our dressing room and sat down outside against the brick wall.  Then, I just started crying.  And I cried pretty hard, too.  I couldn’t believe we had lost that game, and losing hurt, especially after I had played one of the best games of my life.  Several of the Cocke County fans had gathered outside our dressing room to taunt us, and when they saw me crying, they really let me have it.  Some of my own teammates gave me a hard time, too, yelling at me to stop, but I didn’t care.  To this day, I’m not ashamed of crying after that loss because when I really care about something, I give it my all, and when you give your all and still come up short, it’s painful.

I sometimes think about that left guard and wonder if he remembers that game as well as I do.  I wonder if he remembers how hard we battled play after play after play, neither one willing to quit, neither one willing to back down.  I wonder if he ever looks back on that game and feels the way I felt out there on the field, like I’d never been so alive.  I hope he does, and I hope that you both one day will get to experience something like that, even if you have to suffer the same sting of defeat, because that memory is one of the most fulfilling of my life.  As old age takes me and my brain begins to fade, I hope the memory of that game on that night against that guy will stay with me until the end because the memory of feeling that alive and that present in the moment isn’t experienced very often, and it’s a pretty amazing feeling.