I am no better than.

I have journeyed, more than most.

I have bled, more than most.

I have prospered, more than most.

I have been broken, more than most.

I dig, I reflect, and I plan, more than most.

And still, I am no better than, any woman any man.

Our strength, resolve, and humility deserves attention here

I am no better than any woman any man.

Confidence

Wild confidence

Almost unrealistically so

A dream, to conquer the unconquerable

The courage to face the dragon

Not meek, with head held low

Not too much worry

Not too much fear

A squint in our eyes

A smirk in our smiles

We leap, we jump, we go

Ego, it may be called by some, fuck ‘em

Our backs, strong, tall, and stout as the oak tree

Do not shy away from that which others dare to try.

And still, with resolve of steel, we see every woman any man

As being as brave as us

As tall

As strong

And stronger

We are no better than any woman any man

We reside not, above any human, no matter

We cheer others’ victories, unrestrained

We let others cheer us when they must, or not at all

Every woman all men, possess as we do

We may leap, they may sit

We may fight the good fight while they may flee

Still, we all have the heart of the lion to fight the dragon.

Judge not

Cast no shame upon them, no blame

We stand alone when we must, no bother

Be first, when necessary, to do which is right

When aligned for praise, stand low, behind those who may have not fought today

Because every separable one, every bit as good as, every woman every man.

I do not hesitate to roll the dice. More than fifty times, the label “accident-prone” has been hung around my neck, but I blow that shit off. Mostly, I disregard these comments, possibly along with a side dish of my own judginess that these words from others are just their unknowing assumptions, these words slung at me from those who deduce they know what is best for me.

I believe “throwing caution to the wind” is a more accurate description. I commit to what I feel is worth doing while accepting the risk. Quite possibly it’s a moderate gamble. I might be hurt during the pursuit, hurt badly, no bother. The price to possibly be paid, I have done the math, fuck it, I go. Not by chance do these wicked ways come, but resulting from my risky but pre-calculated reward proposition, aka calculated risk, aka caution to the wind, aka fuck it.

With this here life, I try to live this here life to the fullest, broken or not. I engulf myself in my days, in my precious-precious days, same-same as today, precious, and I do not get caught assuming I will see another sunset tomorrow.

Because, one day, I will see my last sunset. One day I will mutter my last I love you. And on my last day, during my last few hours, consuming my last few minutes or seconds, I want to smile, not to frown. Oh to be engrossed with smiles, recounting my gross of steps, flashing back on the sum of years, and holding onto the limitless love. I want to smile that I lived a life in the most-most meaningful of ways. I want to savor the smirks that I lived a life within which I was able to help others live their way, their best way, even if only for a few minutes, and even if that way does not align with mine.

I want to spend my last few breaths smiling, telling those around me how much I love them, reminding them how fucking smart they are, trying to help boost them up at least a hair, reminding them how fucking strong they are, maybe I’ll share one more story or three, and remind those around me, who I love immensely, that when they are ready, they will defeat their dragon, when they are ready.

I want not, to frown, no way not once, within these precious few moments. I want not, to waste my precious-precious time regretting something I did or something I did not. I want not, to look back over this here life and second guess anything, not a damn thing. I want not, the need to say sorry to anybody, not for anything, no way, I do not.

I want to smile, laugh, hug, and say my last I love you’s.

My last day. It will be a glorious day, just like all those before it. My last day, I will do my best with what I think is worth doing, saying what I think is worth saying, and resting easily within the moment of that day, even on my last day, that I was able to help others, as best I could and with the best effort I had.

Others’ shoes, they do not fit me. Zero attraction or intrigue resides within me, thinking or speaking that I know what is right or wrong in another human’s life, so I try my hard-hard-hardest to avoid that. I believe that although conditions appear to us on the surface, there is usually much-much-more that lies below our shiny candy-covered shell. The stuff below that drives us despite the danger when some of us leap even though we know it will hurt. Despite the said danger, facing what there is no face, no matter, and that which I guess we can call “courage”. I do not think myself courageous. I do not think myself courageous, or brave, or lucky. I am, just me, my one singular me that sometimes makes things better and sometimes messes shit up. I am no shaman, I just try and try.

Below our surface, where shit gets real, are the things that scare us. The things that hold us down, the things that hold us back. The things that haunt us and threaten us are the things below. We may be so scared at times, during the seasons of our lives, and we remain frozen, stuck sometimes, and not willing to risk a damn thing. We all have our own hard shit, the shit we hide below, behind our surface screen. This shit, our hard shit, we carry despite our desire to put said stuff down, shit we would like to leave behind, aka our own monsters within.

“Make sure you are taking care of yourself”, I hear this, one of the current phrases. Genuinely concerned about my functional beating heart, yes, I understand, I get you and I thank you. Thank you for reaching out, thank you for your intentional well wishes. I honor and value your heart and your words, truly I do. “You can’t take care of others unless you are first taking care of yourself”, that one is also ringing in my ears right now. But these too, I blow that shit off.

And just what is “care” anyhow?

Better still, what is “giving”?

Sometimes, intention and result differ, duh, often they do. For me, maybe I begin, trying to show care, trying to act with care, with patience, empathy, understanding. Offering a helping hand, I intend, offering a helping hand, I try, and I try to bring with me an openness to listen. Sometimes I run hot, in other words, I work harder than others say I should, and maybe I work harder than is ultimately healthy for me, but uh, yeah, just me doing me my way, aka fuck it.

Life, too precious. Our time in this here life, too short. Our opportunity to make a difference, greater than great-greater-greatest. But our reality, this time spending quality time doing that which helps humanity, this time is fleeting, absolutely fucking fleeting.  So fuck it I say, I’ll bust my ass when I want to, doing that which I believe to be true, to me, by my own measure.  

Possibly some of my selflessness, borderline assumption, acceptance of non-self, or in other words putting myself mostly last, possibly this all began long ago. Long ago when I felt myself alone as a young kid, running from my monster, aka my mother, since the age of four once her worst self came out, my mother whose poor mental health chased me incessantly, by no natural fault of her own. I was on the run from my monster for nine years in my youth, then entangled in a deadly chess match with the devil, the devil aka the drugs, for another thirteen years, and as a result after this devil’s play, most of my self-importance was shed.

As a high school dropout, I thought very little of myself and as a junkie, I thought very less of myself. I constructed my own little world, teetering on the edge of desperation, a razor-thin line between life and non-life. All the while, the world was happy to have me stay in my box, my stupid small space, because to the world, I was smaller than small, lower than low, ridiculously unimportant, rather bothersome to said world, mostly insignificant in that world, and insignificant to that world. Laughingly, that world thought even less of me than I thought of me, not that there was much lower to go. After a while’s time, I began to assume the suit which most would prefer I wear, a suit of burden upon the world, a suit that fit.

Not that I felt worthless, no not really at all, but rather I assumed the second or third rung, embracing a lower meaning of self in relationship to the significance and problems of others around me, aka humanity, aka the world. Early on, possibly because of situations outside my control, those conditions at home with my mother, I learned to mostly put myself last, while running for my life. Then operating directly under my own control, I began the slow burn to extinguish my internal flame, then periodically extinguishing my external flame, aka my beating heart. It’s been a fantastic journey, albeit twisty-turny and ouchie-oochie at times, and with miles and miles yet to go, god willing.

Never did I hear these blessed words of virtue, “help others first” either in church or in school, mostly because I rarely attended either. Some funny fucked-up shit is that although we seem so divided these here days, and many claim us to be different than others, being of different origins, and operating from a different playbook, written lore and foundational baselines falsify this. We, me, you, us, we are no different, we all bleed red blood. Maybe if some of us had orange blood, I would wonder, but seems to me, my uneducated little me, we are of one bloodline. We come from one spark, one mother, however your compass spins. Jesus said, help others first. Buddha said, help others first. The Pope, Allah, and all of our deities say the same shit, help others first. But alas, somewhere, somehow, we split, ideologically. We stand opposed, divided, and at each other’s throats. So sad, so horribly sad, and tragically so, but yet, we all get to do things, do life, ourselves and in our own way because I see no other way, we are going to do us, our way anyway. Are we so much better than, or are we no better than, any woman any man.

Through self-discovery and the exploration of what might work in my small world, just for me, I found it. Acting, working, and giving to others is what me think-think-thinks works best for me, even when it burns, even when it hurts, even when doing so breaks me, even when I break myself knowingly and willingly during the effort. This, my formula, so far.

Mostly true for me is I tend to run better at higher levels of intensity. I don’t always run hot, only when I feel I need to. I try to do my best in a way I have learned works best for me.

I have also learned to slow down, when I want to, not always when I need to. I have also learned to effectively rest when I want to, not always when I need to.

I have also learned to let go when I need to, and not always when I want to. You might be asking yourself, what the fuck is he talking about? The more transparent example is that of the drug addict: the drug addict, the advanced drug addict, should stop, right? That’s what many people think, the addict should stop, just stop doing it, because, so some think, because the addict can quit anytime. Maybe you share this perspective. Just because they SHOULD stop, doesn’t make it so. Getting clean is not for an addict that needs to get clean. I need to repeat myself: getting clean is not for an addict than NEEDS to get clean. Getting clean is for the addict that WANTS to get clean. Just because I should, I do not always do so. Mostly when I want to, when I really-really want to, when I think there is nowhere else to go, when I am cornered, when I think I would rather live than most certainly die, when I really-really decide that I want to do or not do something more than I want to do anything else, I do.

Sometimes, there is no slowing, there is no resting, and there is no walking away. Never afraid to suffer, most always mindful to not commit to what I cannot finish, I am quick to sign up for the thing that means more to me than self, which is most things. I do what I think is best for others, more than what I think is best for me.

Hum, let me think-think-think, am I being selfish, selfless, or dumb? Maybe all three, methinks.