JON

Life Gets Tedious, Don’t It?

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As we begin to enter the summer months of the year, it can feel like we’re stuck in a seemingly endless loop, whether it be repetition’s persistent vines creeping their way through our lives, or whether we seem to always find bad news around every corner, or hiding under any rock we turn over. Such struggles have been waxed eloquent in literature and written about in song, but how can we battle the feelings of tedium in our everyday lives?

We can always find more bandwidth inside for thankfulness, and particularly toward the things that break up the monotony in our lives, whether it be music or our pets, or even something as small as the knick-knacks and mementos that means something special to us. Another way is reaching out, when we have the energy to. Communication is critically important, and reaching out to friends has always been a bugaboo-buster for me. Talking to someone, anyone is a vital way of charting new and fun paths in our lives!

Another way is to spend time in the places and moments where the same-ole-same-ole was interrupted in good ways. Sporting events, concerts, parties, etc and the memories attached to them are great ways of setting your mind in a different space, away from the repetition of life. If you have anything physically from those events, take a little time in the day to look through them, if you can! 

In closing, I want you to know that, if you feel like you are in a tedious loop in your life, I understand and sympathize! I am going through a bit of that at this time, and I want you to know you’re not alone! I have been using these exercises mentioned above to beat back the tedium some, and reminiscing on some of the good times has always been able to paint a smile on my face, and I hope that, in you doing so, it has the same effect 💜

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, talk about some of the ways you fight back tedium and boringness in your life!

And one thing more-I have greatly missed you all! My main resource for these blogs (my MacBook Air) went kaput on me last September, and after much delay and procrastination, I have finally returned! It will take some time for me to work my way around the WordPress app, so if my blogs look different than they have in the past, please forgive me! All will be hunky dory in time 💜

All the love, JP 💜

EM

I LEARNED

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This year has been one of the most challenging years I’ve ever experienced. But still, I’m here for it. 

I have been in a wheelchair for years, due to issues stemming from my Systemic Sclerosis, (Scleroderma). A little over a year ago, I went through some changes in how my doctors are treating my illness. Instead of trying to stop it, which wasn’t happening, they are treating my worst symptoms, with the intent of increasing my quality of life. Who knew that this would change everything?

I have been working hard through PT, OT, and training to regain my mobility. It’s taken a lot of determination, motivation, and commitment. Today I barely even use my cane. My wheelchair collects dust until the next big adventure that requires being in one position for an extended period, walking long distances, long days, venues with long ramps or uneven ground, etc., or during an unexpected flare. When I say it’s been challenging, it feels understated. It’s hurt, consumed a lot of time, left me in tears feeling defeated, thinking it’s all for nothing, and many other mind-fuck games our brains like to play. 

As with any illness, stress has the biggest negative impact on the body, mind, and soul. I never thought my peace would be challenged like it has been this last year. My mom’s Alzheimer’s has progressed rapidly, leaving her needing more time and support from myself and the family. On top of that, our lives took an unexpected turn as we accepted a difficult task at a major crossroads for our family. To say we’ve been under immense pressure, like nothing we’ve faced before, is a true statement. This one life-changing need in our family has had me at the maximum stress level I’m capable of working through.

I believe that every moment in our lives is a chance to learn something about ourselves, an opportunity to change and become a better version of ourselves, and once we learn the lesson, peace returns to one’s life. I have spent a lot of time on my knees this past year begging God to tell me what I’m supposed to be learning from all of the melancholy chaos we’ve endured. Why make me physically stronger just to throw a monkey wrench into my mental health, peaceful home, family, and positive take on life? 

Through this challenging time, for myself and my family, I have learned that change can often take more effort than anticipated. I learned that even if you give your full effort, things don’t always get better. I learned that I am worthy of all that effort. I learned that those I love are worthy of my effort. I learned that it’s ok to temporarily disengage from many things that were important to me to prioritize my physical healing and my family’s needs at this time. I learned that when things are broken, they can’t always be fixed, and this goes for people as well. I learned that picking up the pieces doesn’t mean that all of those pieces can be put back together. I learned that there are people in my life who will walk through fire for me and I for them. I learned that some care enough to wait in my silence for me to heal and allow me the space needed to work on healing my family. I learned that not everyone is my friend. I learned that some people forgot about me, during my much-needed silent healing journey. I learned that everyone is going through something, and I have endless gratitude for anyone who takes a minute to check in and remind me they’re there and ready to help if I need them. I learned that a kind gesture doesn’t have to be elaborate, it’s the small reminders people give, letting me know that even though I’m not present at the moment, they are there when I’m ready. I learned that yes, I am strong, but I’m also at times fragile. I learned that where there’s a will, there’s a way is a damn lie. But still, I’m here for it. 

I hold those who have taken the time to let me know they’re always there with me in the highest regard. To those who disappeared, I have nothing but hope that their journey is a happy one. For those whose mental capacity is flooded with struggles, leaving them drowning, please know you’re not alone. I want you to know I haven’t much emotional space to share at this moment. But still, I’m here for it. 

JON

IN PURSUIT OF THE BOOGEYMAN

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A conversation on Facebook crossed my feed a while ago on this day, and the body and message of it genuinely made me wonder: How much of the collective inner resources of the human race have been wasted on trying to find the “boogeyman” within something, i.e, something that could make someone or something an enemy against us, or make it into something we could ultimately put down or root against?

Obviously, there are things we need to be against and put down at every turn we get (racism, sexism, anti-Semitism, the list goes on and on), and a whole covey of world and national events to give attention to, but seemingly, a lot of our time and energy and other precious resources within each of us goes toward bringing someone or something down that is comparatively harmless in the grand scheme of things, whether it be a daily activity or a new kind of food or even how somebody dresses, or whether they have long hair or an earring or not, down even to the kind of car they drive. I could list hundreds of examples of people wasting precious inner resources on minutiae. But why do we do this? Why must we put down and scrutinize and knock in the dirt the still small things that give people a tiny morsel of joy?

Instead of belittling those things that bring folks joy, why not talk it out with those folks and understand why they enjoy them? Or better still, experience these things for yourself if you can? Chances are, there is something within these hobbies or skills or places or things that you might be able to connect with, and a better chance that you could have your life enlightened by them! Whether it be someone who does one thing off-kilter in their daily routine, to someone collects odd neckties to someone in search of new songs, to larger things such as people who restore cars, houses, electronics or whatnot, let them have what they enjoy! The people you may put down likely wouldn’t do the same to you if they saw what you did, so why would you do the same to them?

The next time you are able, if you find yourself scoffing at something that someone is doing, take a look inside yourself and ask that question above: Would they belittle me if they could see my life? And, if you are able, approach the person and ask them about what it is they do. You just might find yourself basking in their light, and wanting to let your own shine through whatever you do. ❤️

Thank you for taking some time to read this blog, and whenever you do, I hope it finds you well! In the comments, talk about something you love to do, whether it be a hobby or otherwise!

As always, take care, much love, and may God richly bless,

-Jon

JON

TRUE NORTH

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If you’ve wondered why my output here has slowed down in recent months, it’s because I am going through a period of immense inventory-taking in my life. As I have officially reached the backside of my 20s since last we spoke, I felt it was time to start getting my mental, spiritual and soulful house in order, and to decide just what it is I want to keep doing. In that period, I have turned loose of a lot of people and happenings that I either had no interest in anymore, or was sapping the energy I once had. And I’ve become more mindful as to who I speak to on a regular basis, and the things I do, and how to balance both without the scale tipping too far in either direction, leading to burn-out or a lack of interest.

Put simply, at age 27, I am beginning to search for (and hopefully find!) my true north.



I am beginning to re-invest in what brought me joy before, such as poetry. While my lofty book-publishing dreams and long-form poetry output has ceased at least for now, I am partaking in another poetry challenge with a dear friend this year, and am pulling out all the stops, as we both have made a pact to write a poem a day for as long as we are able. Short poems mostly, as I am writing nijusan poetry, or “cheater haiku” as I call them. 23 syllables, a 7-9-7 string. Nijusan is the Japanese word for “twenty-three,” so it made sense to stick the name to these poems, and this new poetic invention has re-opened a lot of doors poetically that I thought were screwed or welded shut.

I am also trying to keep contact with dear friends who build me up and encourage me, and maintaining contact with those I already have roots with in their soil. Reaching out to dear friends is a cherished pastime for me, as I live a mostly rural life in the mountains of North Carolina. I am also taking stock of my friendships, and seeing which ones are benefitting me and helping me forward, and which ones needed to be clipped and left to the elements. While it is a bit sad to turn loose of some I have cherished, I know it will only help me and lessen the weight on my shoulders.

In addition to before, I am slowly dipping my big toe back into event organizing, as I have missed it very much. While it’s not anything to the extent I was doing in 2021 and 2022, it still fills the void that my prior schedule had left behind. Organizing weekly virtual music concerts, helping other friends with booking for their events, and kicking the tires on potential interviews are reaping newfound benefits for me, now that I know how to reign myself and my mind in, and to be fulfilled by it without being bogged down by it.

Another major investment has been continued therapy, though with the blossoming of a new season, my seasonal “blahs” have subsided for the most part. But it’s still a highly beneficial thing for me, if for no other reason than to ensure this newfound good feeling and happiness in my life sustains itself for many months or even years to come! While I have had some stumbling blocks in this new spring season, talking things over with my therapist has been immeasurably helpful in keeping me on the right track.



While I have shared a few different reasons for my absence here, there are still many ways I am evolving and growing and changing, and I will share these with you in future blog posts in weeks and months to come. But for now, I feel like I needed a bit of explanation as to why I took a sabbatical of sorts from blogging. It is because, friends, my true north is calling, and I must follow it. I’m not getting any younger, and as certain as it’s daylight, the time is now to go. ❤️

I hope this blog post finds you well, and in the comments, please share how you found or are trying to find your own true north in your life! What does it look like? What is it you’re doing to find it? If you’ve found it, what did it for you? Feel free to share!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless,

-Jon

JON

TAKING IT NICE & EASY

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Over the last little while, my output both in writing and doing my assorted creative projects have slowed down. In addition, I find myself not worrying so much about re-starting the various things that I set out to bring back, at least not at this time. Hell, even my output on this site has slowed down considerably over the recent months. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t admit to feeling at least a twinge of guilt and sorriness in not doing these things. After all, I prided myself into jumping back in feet-first with a heavy-duty routine doing various things, when I felt the time was right.

But moreso in place of guilt and sorriness, I have actually felt a sense of easiness and pride recently. I let what I loved doing entrap me, so much so that at times, I couldn’t do the things I enjoyed without worrying over a deadline or a commitment or a meeting or whatnot to tend to. But now that I am running my own race at my own pace, I find that the creative projects I continue with come much easier and much more effective and productive when not stuck in a box.

As I’ve alluded to in several blogs in the past, I have a penchant for taking on many things at once, so much that it makes the wheels of my mind bog down in the sand and muck and I wind up stuck in place, not being able to go forward or backward, just being crushed by the weight of all that has piled on top of me. It’s took a lot of learning and getting used to, but running at a slower and more calculated pace with a lighter load on my shoulders has reaped major benefits for me.

For the first time in months, I can actually do the things I enjoy doing, without having to worry about having enough time for them. I can play my guitar as long as I want, I can tackle my broadcast media time capsule project and add to it whenever I please, I can go for long, slow walks in the late autumn sunlight whenever.

Though getting back into what I did before is on my mind (and will happen in a not-long amount of time), I can sleep better at night knowing that those creative flames will simply WARM me, without them CONSUMING me. Through the help of friends, therapy and a higher being/beings, I have accrued needed wisdom in my ever-evolving life as a creative. Before, I couldn’t see the trees for the woods. But now, after a long, occasionally arduous but always healing time, I am learning how to balance work and play, and how to love both simultaneously.

I hope you have a very wonderful Thanksgiving ahead, and in the comments, talk a little bit about you learned to balance work and play, and what you have learned in slowing down at times!

As always, much love & may God richly bless,

-Jon

EM

I SEE YOU

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I’ve always had a passion for writing. However, my challenge lies in the fact that my thoughts often scatter, and I may complete only one out of every ten pieces I begin. I have a friend who grapples with constant chaotic thoughts. He finds it difficult to recognize any redeeming qualities within himself. The remarkable thing is, he possesses an unparalleled gift. His ability to put words to paper that evoke all your senses and transport you into the vivid scenes he creates is a talent possessed by few.

He’s been working very hard on himself for the last year or so, giving up things he once thought he wanted, to explore his past, understand who he has become, and discover who he wants to be. He’s utilized advice from friends, his own creativity, a great deal of courage, and therapy to break free from the box that trauma had trapped him in.

I am incredibly proud of him. He acknowledges that he was becoming toxic to himself and those he cared about. Instead of taking the easy route, he summoned the strength to become a better person. His journey is far from over, and he knows it will take years to untangle and overcome behaviors shaped by trauma. But he’s doing it, and I want him to know that, although my life is very busy at the moment & my time is limited… I see you.

He has a deep love for poetry, and so do I. Even though I’m just a small star in the vast galaxy of his talent, I knew that poetry was the language I needed to connect with him. I chose a reverse poem to serve as a reminder of where he once stood and where he stands today. I want him to understand that I see him, I’m proud of him, and I have faith in him. I look forward to watching his ongoing journey toward self-healing and self-awareness.

Read each line from top to bottom. Then read each line from bottom to top.

His life is pain

And he no longer feels

He has the right to hope

Learning from loss

His worth is limited

Refusing to see

Through others’ hearts

Forging his path

In fear & anxiety

Never choosing to walk

With trust & courage

Trudging through chaos

Harnessing his creativity

Binding him from

A life full of joy

For JP, to remind you to always flip the script.

JON

THE SPEED OF LIFE: ONE YEAR LATER

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Hello all! I hope you have had a wonderful Sunday and a great weekend overall! This weekend finds me reminiscing and reflecting, as it was one year ago this very day that I began writing on this blog, and sharing my experiences and happenings with all who would listen. And while I will admit to having skepticism at first about writing here, mainly over the feeling that nobody would listen and would therefore not resonate, I’ve come to find that, over the last year, I have seen so many things in my life from the viewpoints of others, and it has made me take a second look at things I was doing and am doing, and showing me more clearly what to leave in and what to leave out in terms of my life. And it has been a major boon to me!

I must give a bit of explanation as to how I got here: The first blog I ever wrote on this website was entitled “Moving At The Speed Of Life”. At that point in my life, I really was doing just that. I was bursting at the seams with creative opportunities and was hellbent on making every single one of them work. Now, if you can balance your working life with your everyday life, this can be a time that bears great fruit for you. But I found myself incapable of doing this, and I now freely admit that, whereas a year ago, I was still very hesitant about doing so. I found myself taking on so many tasks, and trying to keep every happy within the network I helped found that it all became too much. I wound up crashing head-first into a brick wall on August 12 of last year, standing dangerously close to the edge, and about to go over it. Had it not been for the goodness and kindness of many-and three women in particular-I don’t know where I would be!

The first of these wonderful women is Em Farwell, one of the founders of this very website, and the one who first offered me to write a blog for this website! I first came to know Em after she joined the team on Cosmos Creative Television, the online network I co-founded. Within just a couple of weeks, I knew that Em was a valiant, strong and caring individual who has a huge heart and so much to give. And give she did!

Em assumed a sort of motherly role in my life, taking me in as one of her many “virtual” children she has nurtured and looked out after over the years. When I told her my story and why I am the way I am, she took the time to listen, and offered up ideas and solutions about how to grow and be better and shed a lot of what I knew and had experienced.

As mentioned before, when Em offered me a spot writing on this blog, I approached it with some hesitation and trepidation. I had never blogged before; the closest I had come to that was putting my poetry onto various websites through the years prior. I had no idea if anyone would listen to or even care about what I said. But, at any rate, I found the courage and elected to go for it. And it has paid off wonderfully, as mentioned earlier in this blog! I will be forever grateful to Em for believing in me and giving me this opportunity to write on this wonderful blog!

The second of these three wonderful women is my dear friend and co-creator Renée Yaworsky. Renée and I founded Cosmos Creative Television together, and we have done many wonderful things in our creative lives together! More than that, it was Ré who first introduced me to Em, when she first came onto the CCTV team way back when. Ré has been one of my biggest supporters, one of my closest confidants, and one of the reasons why I am talking with you today. She saw firsthand the struggles I was going through, and was the first to start me forward on the journey to where I am today, one of healing and growth and change.

When I first mentioned possibly writing a blog, she was over-the-moon about the idea, having been a constant supporter of my poetry and other writings all along the way. My hope is that Renée may someday join myself and Em in writing on this website! In the meantime, with each blog I publish to this website, I always think of Ré and what she said to me, her unwavering support that pushed me over the edge to do this, and in turn, see things from a wide variety of lights and viewpoints, and how to best prepare myself for the future!

The third woman I want to pay homage to in this anniversary blog is my therapist Elizabeth! When I first stepped away from doing shows and whatnot in Cosmos, Renée and Em were steadfast about my trying therapy. I had never really given therapy a shot before, and out of nervousness, I kept putting it off and putting it off until finally I found a website that did not have any hoops to jump through (shoutout to Open Path Collective!), and I found Elizabeth after only a few minutes of searching. After initial contact, we settled on a date for a first therapy session, and to say I went into the session scared to death was an understatement. But within 10 minutes, I felt better telling my story than I had felt in the first nearly 20 years of telling it. I finally felt truly heard and seen and cared about. I finally felt safe and comfortable, talking about all of the dark, traumatizing things I had experienced in my onescore and six on this earth.

December will mark a year since I first started seeing Elizabeth, and in the dozens of sessions we have had since that time, I have reaped benefits I never knew existed. I feel so much freer and happier in my life, and I have so many more tools in my tool chest for fixing the problems in my life and overcoming the days where sadness overcomes me. While I do still slip from time to time, I find that I am a better friend, a better man and a better person overall for seeking therapy, and now, whenever I can, I tell people about my experiences in therapy, and how it can be beneficial in their own lives, if they take the chance to do it!

Most of all in my therapy journey, I have learned to keep forward and not linger on every minute thing that could happen. This is something I have struggled with mightily in my life, and I’d be lying if I said I was 100% cured, but the strides I have made and the tips and tricks I have received have been more beneficial to me than any amount of money. I feel like I am lightyears ahead of where I was when I first started, and though I know I have many a mile to travel in my journey, I can take comfort in knowing I have come this far, and have grown and changed and evolved accordingly!

Before I leave you, I want to offer you, the reader a hearty thank-you and bow of appreciation as well! Your comments and messages and other inputs on my blogs have been extremely beneficial to me, and it is through your eyes that I have seen a great many things that have gone on, and situations I have been in, and I have seen where I could be better, and where I have done better. Your input has shaped and crafted me more than you could ever imagine, and for this, I am thankful! Please continue to offer your input whenever you can!

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, tell me which of my blogs over the last year has resonated with you the most!

As always, take care, much love, may God richly bless, and here’s to another year!

-Jon

EM

WHEN “THURSDAY” IS “WEDNESDAY”

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Happy Friday friends! You know those days we all have when everything you try to do is an epic fail? My “Thursday” was one of those days!

My husband is enjoying a much needed camping vacation. I started “Thursday” off with completing some promotional work online. I was feeling accomplished after getting it done quickly, efficiently and early! I had nothing I had to do for the rest of the day until an interview at 8pm.

After completing my online work, I went to the refrigerator to grab a drink. The minute I opened the door, I immediately regretted it, the smell was overwhelming. I noticed the milk container lying on its side. When I reached for it, I realized the container was bloated, and couldn’t even stand upright. What had started as a container of whole milk had turned into curds & whey, and Little Miss Muffet was no where to be found!

RIP Frigidaire

I quickly cleared out the entire refrigerator and transferred my Orencia injections into a cooler with ice. I have no way of knowing how long they went without refrigeration. My anxiety grew as I called the pharmacy asking what to do. They told me they could send me replacements, but I would need to cover the cost upfront and wait to see if my insurance would reimburse me. Considering each shot costs $1,436, and I would need three replaced, that amounted to $4308. They were so cavalier about the situation. I got the impression they truly believed I had that kind of money just lying around. But let me refocus and get back to the rest of my chaotic “Thursday”!

Following that, the power suddenly went out and my attempts to reset it were not successful. I was beyond frustrated and I shifted my attention to tending to the animals instead. However, while collecting eggs, several chickens managed to escape their enclosure. Despite corralling most of them, their was one little devil that evaded me. As I approached it with the hope of sending it running back to the enclosure, I slipped and fell hard. I was able to catch myself with my outstretched hand, I felt pain immediately. I found myself in the duck pond, which is basically a mud bog, this time of year.

By this time I contemplated remaining there for the rest of the day. Eventually I managed to extract myself from the mud and hobbled back to the house with my cane. I wanted to get inside and quickly ice my hand and wrist. Then I had another moment of complete exasperation when I remembered the power is still out and I can’t even shower. So there I sat in self pity city, hurting & covered in mud for a good half-hour, until my phone rang and interrupted my pity party for one.

The call was from the social worker where my mom resides, they needed me come in to address some matters. I felt paralyzed. I was covered in mud, and feeling overwhelmed and doubting myself. I do not like these feelings and it flipped a switch in my brain. Just do it. With renewed badassery, I dragged my ass back outside. It took all the tenacity I could muster, but I managed to reset the power and get that mother clucking chicken back to the safety of it’s pen.

I did it.

I went back inside and reassured myself, “you do not have to rush to Mom’s. She’s safe and you can go tomorrow. Treat yourself to a hot shower and some ice cream! Just as I headed for the shower another call came in and I realized it was “Wednesday” not “Thursday”. All of the effort I had put in to my work that morning was wasted time. I had done the wrong days work. I would have to backtrack and edit everything.

Before doing anything else, I shower and ice my injury. My shower re-energized me and the swelling in my hand improved after icing. I was feeling better and no longer worried about a potential trip to the ER. Since realizing it’s “Wednesday” and not “Thursday”, and that I didn’t have an interview in a few hours, I made the decision to go to moms after all, and address her needs.

Upon returning home from moms I felt quite accomplished, but exhausted. I video chatted with some long distance friends and allowed myself to unwind. As time passed, the pain in my wrist and hand became increasingly unbearable. I knew I needed to get it evaluated. Yet, my stubbornness led me to wait until the next morning. What a long agonizing night.

Urgent Care

The next morning, which indeed was the actual “Thursday”, I went straight to urgent care. Diagnosis: fractured and they discovered two previously healed fractures. Now I wait for Ortho referral. They marveled at the pain threshold required to endure two broken bones, without even realizing they were broken! Sadly, most spoonies dealing with painful chronic illnesses unfortunately understand. I carried on with my scheduled interview that evening and then relaxed the rest of my “Thursday”. Looking forward to a fresh start “Friday”!

Now I wait for ortho referral

JON

FAILURE IS ALWAYS AN OPTION!

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One of the things that the human race is scared of the most in their time on the planet is failure. This is a wholly justified feeling, as failure in certain things can feel absolutely devastating in our lives, especially if we’ve poured our blood, sweat and tears into something, only to find it in pieces on the ground when the day is done.

Failure is always a large and looming monster, especially if you are like myself and are of a creative persuasion. Failure in music, writing, poetry, painting, etc always seems to loom three steps behind us at all times. But as scary as those long shadows may be, many times we find our worries and fears about failure were transient. But still, the shadow follows us.

But five of the best words we could hear as people are: Failure is always an option.

Failure.

Is.

ALWAYS.

An.

Option.

I firmly believe that, while failure is a scary prospect in our lives, the presence of it is actually a good thing for us, as creatives and just as everyday people. And when I say this, I am NOT saying to root your expectations for a project or a relationship or a move or ANYTHING in failure, but rather to use the specter of failure to your advantage. Everyone who’s anyone has failed in their respective field many times, but in many cases, they did not become myopic after these. The failures they experienced instead only poured kerosene on the fire lit beneath them, and pushed them to grow, get better and move past what they had negatively experienced.

While I cannot speak for everyone and how they perceive failure in their own lives, I am of the belief that, when we completely remove the chance of failure in anything that we do, our work or craft will suffer. If we take a mental high-ground in our work and remove the option of failure and do nothing to keep the fire lit beneath us, we will become prone to indolence in our field, and any new ideas will be poisoned by the lack of failure. We will become creative sybarites, content to sit on our dead centers and become fat and lazy off of pleasure. Instead of neutering the chance of failure in our lives, we can instead leverage this idea of failure for our betterment, and to get a better head-start on any new project or idea we have.

As creatives and just as people in general, our lives are a constant and ever-evolving series of stratagems and gameplans for when those failures or setbacks manifest. Success and purpose equals pleasure in anything we do, and to wave the white flag of surrender and toss in the towel is tantamount to creative suicide, and starving ourselves of what every fiber of our being really desires. We must learn how to balance our reactions to failures and successes equally, so one reaction doesn’t get overtaken by the other, and sets us down a potentially dark path. While it’s human nature to mourn some on the loss of an opportunity, we must remember: For every door that closes, another will open. We must keep this mindset by our sides, if we are to continue to grow, change and evolve into the person we want to be!

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, talk about a time where you leveraged failure into something that ultimately benefitted you or got you ahead in a facet of your life!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless,

-Jon

EM

SUNRISES AND NEW BEGINNINGS

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I’m fortunate to have an incredible support system, but in my darkest moments, I find myself alone. No one else can live in this body with me. Throughout the night, I’m here by myself, surrounded by darkness and pain. I’m sick, and I have to clean up my own vomit. It’s an unsettling reminder of the loneliness I battle despite the support around me.

Today was a challenging day, or rather, yesterday was. I have not slept, and time seems to be merging into a blur. It’s as if I’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone, where time doesn’t matter. However, reality hits, and I know I have to get up, get ready, and drive a teenager to field hockey practice in just two hours. So, yes, time indeed matters.

Despite the obstacles my body is putting in my path, I need to get on with my day and face it with a smile. Adding others to my misery only adds to the situation. I am happiest and more content when those who support me are living their best lives. I watch them view me through rose-tinted lenses, a view I’ve painted by pretending I’m okay. Those living with a chronic illness become skilled performers, some of the best actors and actresses you’ll ever meet. It’s a shame the Academy doesn’t give Spoonie Awards!

Yesterday was a day spent in intense pain. I managed to get up, take my medication, administer my injection, and take my granddaughter to get her ears pierced. I had to stop several times on the way home, the abdominal pain was merciless and unbearable. I contemplated going to the hospital, knowing full well, this was another blockage. Yet the thought of another exhausting and humiliating medical experience leaves me less than inclined to go. So, I suffer through the torment alone.

The several stops I made during my thirty-minute ride home, seemed futile. The Scleroderma dragon had awakened, wreaking havoc on my GI track’s ability to function. By now, it’s clear it’s another blockage. But did I go to the hospital? No, I did not. The thought of compounding my pain, stress, and overall agony by placing myself in a position to be judged by medical personnel who often treat me like a drug seeker, or time waster deterred me.

Then, having them humiliate me by being completely ignorant about it, like they’re teaching me a lesson or something.

“I’ve had far to many negative patient experiences to just, “go to the er”.

Advocating for myself isn’t new to me, but it’s an exhausting endeavor. The energy it takes to request they talk to my doctor or read through my chart before reentering my room is beyond me. Eventually, when they decide to heed my request, their demeanor shifts. Suddenly skepticism is replaced by compassion and belief. Now I’m declining multiple pain medications they initially assumed I was seeking. The irony is painful.

I shouldn’t have to endure humiliation before I’m treated humanely. So no, I did not go to the hospital. I returned home to suffer.

Within an hour of getting home, I began vomiting. Thankfully, my GI track decided to tediously do its job, and the pain did ease somewhat. The rest of the day, I continued to vomit and managed to navigate my sluggish intestines. Unfortunately, the vomiting triggered my reflux, and the dull headache from the Orencia injection kicked in around the same time. It was officially a full-on flare-up in this stubborn body.

Still, I did take my granddaughter for her piercing and her smiles added light to a dark day. My husband is on a camping trip, so I had to feed the animals and complete a few other necessary chores around the homestead. I even managed to get some online work done. Late evening rolled in, and I chatted with a group of friends online and cracked jokes. I don’t think anyone had an inkling of where I was physically or emotionally. Which I’m fine with because it gave me an escape from my current reality.

I’m writing this at 5 a.m. on Tuesday, as I start to see the light break through the night. I have come to the realization that this illness has taken something else from me, the joy and beauty in watching the sunrise. Because for me, sunrise means I haven’t slept again, the night is over, and people and animals are counting on me to do what I do. I fight, and I live my best life as painful, lonely, and difficult as it is sometimes. Because I know I only get this one life, and I want my legacy to be the joy I had for family, friends, and life. I absolutely do not want it to be, “She was always sick”.

“I’m doing everything in my power to be the person I want them to remember.”

One day this week, I’m going to plan a day to intentionally experience a sunrise. I want to truly absorb the beauty, and marvel at the miracle of life and new beginnings. I am tired of this disease constantly robbing me of experiences, I refuse to let it take another thing without putting up a fierce fight!

Huge shoutout to all who suffer in the darkness. Battle on, my fellow badass warriors.

I felt inspired…there you go JP, a Haiku.
JON

AM I HEALING, OR AM I DISTRACTED?

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Every single one of us has had rough times, moments or events in our lives that we don’t like to talk about too very often. It can be highly uncomfortable to face those prior markers, but sometimes, we cannot avoid them. In some cases, we do what we can to avoid them, but we often find ourselves repressing those things, pushing them deep down in our minds, souls and psyches. This causes them to build up over time, and if we are not careful, the consequences can be devastating in our lives, and it will leave us having to pick up the pieces at a most inopportune time.

Which begs the question: “Am I healing, or am I distracted?”

Pushing trauma, discord, disaster, dissent, etc down in our lives only pressurizes it, and sets the stage for it to explode from beneath us at a later point. And keeping ANYTHING inside of us is akin to trying to contain a lava flow. Any feeling, any emotion, anything we may need to say to someone, any problem or block in our lives that we need to face, we must be properly prepared to meet them all head-on. If we keep them locked inside, it will make like acid and eat us from the inside out at best, and be a ticking time bomb at worst, destined to destroy both ourselves and all those around us in its wake.

Running from what we feel or are experiencing inside is not the way to go, nor will keeping one’s self excessively busy or making one’s mind imbibed with food, alcohol, sex, etc to avoid problems or shut off emotions pay any dividends to any involved party, no matter what we tell ourselves, or the things we may say, do or achieve under those circumstances. Using busy work or excessive pleasure to avoid that openness is just as toxic and damaging to one’s self as bottling it up and doing nothing on the matter.

It can sometimes feel like a game of “pick your poison”. But what if I told you that you don’t have to pick a poison?

What if I told you there is a medicine to cure these ills?

What if I told you there are three of those medicines?!



Openness and honesty and communication is tantamount to air, water and blood in importance in our lives, and the more we open up about what we are going through, the more we can either kick the dirt of what’s burying us off and climb out of the hole that we found ourselves in, or sprout roots & grow from that dirt and make a whole new, beautiful, flowering life for ourselves in the wake of it all. And the choice can only come from a sincere place inside us; it cannot come from a bottle or a pill or a magazine or the mouth of another person, it has to come sincere from within ourselves. We have to want it bad enough!

Whatever you, the reader may be facing at this time, I sincerely hope you choose the path of openness and honesty and communication, no matter how hard it may be for you to do so. I know a lot of us struggle at times with opening up about our lives and what we’re going through and asking for help, and I completely understand why, but bottling up those feelings, emotions and words can only be a poison and not a medicine. I hope you choose the path of healing, openness and bravery to walk, and I hope to see you at the end of that path!



Thank you so much for taking some time to read this blog, and in the comments, detail something you’re afraid of facing in your own life, and what you might enact to help yourself overcome that fear, and get back on even ground in your life!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless

-Jon

EM

“LET’S TRY THIS”

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Those who know me well recognize that the length of time that has passed since my last blog post hints that my health hasn’t been great.

“In the fiery crucible of battling an incurable illness, she fearlessly harnesses the darkness, transforming it into fuel and igniting an unyielding spirit that blazes through life with an unwavering light that no healthy soul could ever hope to match.”

~Em Farwell

These past several months have been challenging. Trying to strike a balance between improving my quality of life, managing my symptoms, and dealing with disappointing test results has become an unexpected labyrinth that is stealing minutes from my life. Adjusting to medication changes has always been challenging for me, and it keeps adding to the torment.

It began when I contracted COVID back in December. The on-call doctor held back some of my medications while I was taking Paxlovid, but unfortunately, he didn’t withhold all the necessary ones, and it wreaked havoc on my lab results. Since then, it’s been a constant “let’s try this” game with my treatment plan, leaving me struggling with constantly changing side effects. It feels like I’m stuck on a hamster wheel; when one test improves, another one plummets.

During this time, I’ve had to tolerate changes in my medications and dosages, endure periods of isolation, watch my hair fall out, and witness my eyesight continue to decline. Adding to this jigsaw puzzle of torture, due to my medications & Sjögren’s, in just 6 months I went from having no cavities to having more than 10 cavities that I can’t afford to fix. It feels like an endless cycle of setbacks and obstacles that I am continuously struggling to overcome. All these physical changes and the thought of future ones (losing my hair, teeth, eyesight, etc.) take a huge toll on my mental health. I’m exhausted.

I am very grateful for my medical team. They’re putting in a major effort to help me through this time and to find solutions to improve my quality of life. Lately, I’ve started hearing phrases like “Hail Mary”, “last ditch effort”, “worth a shot,” and “running out of options” from my doctors, which leaves me with a sense of uncertainty.

The latest “out of the box” effort is to try biological therapy. The original thought was infusions; however, that would mean another monthly trip to Boston, which is 2 1/2 hours from my home. Instead, I will be giving myself weekly injections.

“with a biologic in the class of biologics known as selective costimulation modulators to target the cause of your inflammation and reduce the activity of your immune system”

I began the biologic last week. Thankfully, I’ve only experienced mild side effects. I did have bruising and tenderness at the injection site, along with chills after the injection and a lingering dull headache. Throughout the week, I’ve felt out of sorts, but I’m prepared to fight through adjusting to a new medication.

Finding balance and knowing if a medication is working for me can take months. Despite struggling with the thought of self-injecting, I keep reminding myself that I’m doing it with the hope that this will improve my current situation and lead to better days ahead!

Today was Week 2 of therapy. The actual process wasn’t any easier. I still hesitated and had to run through a whole gymnastic routine mentally before actually injecting the medication. But I did it, and I’m choosing to have faith in a positive outcome. I may be exhausted, but no one should be so brazen as to dare count me out!

JON

WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THIS DAY

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Today is Independence Day in America, July 4th. My intro to this piece will be short and sweet…….This is my homage to a piece the great NASCAR journalist Joe Whitlock wrote about this day nearly 35 years ago. I hope you give it a read and enjoy it. Happy 4th, one & all!



“O say, can you see by the dawn’s early light……”

Warm seabreezes. The crackle of a fire in the fall. The clear ringing of brand-new guitar strings. The smell of fresh-mown hay. The distant roar of thunder. Michael Jordan, Dale Earnhardt and Hank Aaron. James Taylor, Don Williams and Carole King. Maya Angelou, Langston Hughes and Robert Frost. Birds singing in a morningtime windowsill. Sun-dried clothes and bedsheets. Kittens and puppies playing in the yard. The sweet shade of a beech tree. The fragrance of jasmine, lilacs and roses in the springtime.

“What so proudly we hailed……..”

The Blue Ridge Parkway in the fall. Friday night bluegrass jams. Athens, Georgia. The smell of race fuel. The morning paper and the evening news. Flatt & Scruggs. The sound of old guitars being played. The sound of a baby cooing. The New River Gorge. Asheville, North Carolina. The view from Grandfather Mountain. The lights of New York and Chicago. The sands of Pensacola. The cheer of the crowd at a Braves home run. Kyle Busch, Chase Elliott and Kevin Harvick, duking it out on the high banks of Bristol.

“At the twilight’s last gleaming……..”

The Rocky Mountains in the wintertime. The scents of hamburgers, chicken and sunblock on the boardwalk. The Indianapolis 500. Long walks in the woods. The Golden Gate Bridge and the Gateway Arch. Fresh made molasses and apple butter. The Pacific Coast Highway and the Appalachian Trail. The beautiful silence of falling snow. Cherry wine and new moonshine. Burlington, Vermont. Distant train horns. The beauty of the Great Lakes. Faded blue jeans and perfect-fitting sneakers. Bill Monroe and Doc Watson. Jerry Clower and Paul Harvey. Dan Rather and Walter Cronkite. The smell of bacon sizzling in a pan. Glory glory to ol’ Georgia.

“Who’s broad stripes and bright stars………”

The smells of fresh-turned soil and pine trees in the air. Cape Hatteras. The sound of rain on a tin roof. Hugging the ones you love. Coming home. Fried green tomatoes and Vidalia onions. Just-ripened peaches. “I love you”. Long road trips with no destination. Whitetail deer and families of ducks. A V of geese flying south. The sound of race cars barreling around Watkins Glen. “Gentlemen, start your engines” and “Let’s play ball”. The twang of a Telecaster. Buck Owens and Glen Campbell. Richard Petty and AJ Foyt. The Allman Brothers and the Grateful Dead. The Grand Ole Opry. The Darlington Stripe and the Southern 500. The action and suspense of the World Series and the NBA Finals. The smell of tobacco hanging in an old barn. Old Orchard Beach, Maine. Lake Norman at dawn.

“Through the perilous fight………”

Those who fight for what is right and true. Fearless voices and leaders. Those with clear eyes, strong minds and steel-rod backbones. Those who are fighting for those who are too tired to fight. Those who are speaking for those without a voice. Those who will take naysayers and underminers to task, and, having finished their 40 hour workweek by Tuesday noon, and fighting through exhaustion and strained voice, will put in another 72 hours fighting for human rights or world peace or many other noble, worthy, needed causes. Those who do not have an ounce of quit in them. Those who are angels on the earth.

“O’er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming……..”

Deep, warm hugs and firm, truthful handshakes. The sound of a bottleneck slide over the strings of a dobro. Apple pie and carrot cake. The calm waters of the Pamlico Sound. Mountain sunrises and beachfront sunsets. Canoeing the New. The pineys of south Georgia. Talladega and Road America. Truist Park and Camden Yards. Distant radio stations on a summer night. The clicks, pops and white noise of vinyl records. Jacksonville, Florida. The sound of clawhammer banjo. Lazy flowing rivers. Church bells on a Sunday morning. Slow, soaking thunderstorms. Nashville, Tennessee. Fireworks on July 4th. The distant growl of a Harley and the metallic whine of a trail bike. Old dogs, children and watermelon wine.

“Through the rocket’s red glare, the bombs bursting in air…….”

Pan-fried chicken and homemade biscuits. The crack of a bat against a well-hit baseball. Largemouth bass cracking the water’s surface. Leaves crunching beneath your feet. My dog Sam and my cat Pancho, gone but not forgotten. Lewis Grizzard’s jokes and Garrison Keillor’s stories. The sound of an F-style mandolin. Cows bellowing at daybreak. Hummingbirds congregating at a feeder. Golden retrievers. Fresh seafood. The throaty roar of race engines. Chet Atkins and Roy Clark. Ice cream on a summer day. S’mores around a campfire. Sweet tea and hand-squeezed lemonade. Twin fiddles in unison. Amazing Grace played on the bagpipes. The hustle and bustle of Atlanta. North Wilkesboro Speedway. Florida oranges and Georgia pecans. Larry Munson, God rest his soul. Verne Lundquist and Vin Scully. Sanford Stadium on a Saturday afternoon on October.

“Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there……..”

The Daytona 500. Amen Corner at the Masters. The thrill of roller coasters. Hickory Crawdads baseball. Honey bees and dragonflies. Deep-water friendships. Beckley, West Virginia. The inside smell of a brand-new car. Wood smoke in November. The taste of birthday cake. Trees in full bloom in the springtime. The Georgia Bulldogs winning the National Championship. The orchestra of cicadas. Green peppers. The feeling of sand between your toes and the tide lapping at your ankles. Top-fuel dragsters idling on the line at Thunder Valley. Martinsville hot dogs. The view from Hatteras Island lighthouse. San Francisco.

“O, say does that Star Spangled Banner yet wave………”

Lexington style barbecue and ice-cold Cheerwine. Silent Night. Street fairs. The joy of Christmas morning. Snow angels. Harrison Ford and Morgan Freeman. Kannapolis, North Carolina. The beaches of Hawaii. Andy Griffith and Don Knotts. Military color guards. The sound of your favorite person’s voice. Long, laboring freight trains. Fresh mountain air. Barbecues with best friends. People who care. Folks willing to help anyone and everyone. Turkey, dressing and candied yams on Thanksgiving. Blairsville, Georgia. Crickets chirping. The soft purr of kittens. Honesty, intelligence, exuberance, patience, support and love. Rock and roll music on an outdoor stage. Long, aimless 4-wheeler rides.

“O’er the land of the free……..”

Fresh cantaloupe. The wild horses of Corolla. The Adirondacks. Beach music. The Back Of The Dragon. Wilmington, North Carolina. The feeling when a new idea hits big. Mount Mitchell. The Winston-Salem skyline at night. The rush of 40 race cars roaring past you. Clingman’s Dome and Fontana Dam. The Cumberland River. Long naps. Fiddler’s Grove and Merlefest. The poetry of an Amtrak train pulling into the station. A warm slice of chocolate cake. The first warm day in spring. Days spent fishing. The golden reddish amber of sundown. Skies filled with a billion stars.

“And the home of the brave………”

These are just some of the things I am thankful for this day.

I hop this blog finds you well, and in the comments, tell me about what you are thankful for this day!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless,

-Jon

JON

LEARNING TO WALK AWAY

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Like so many, I am prone to stick by the side certain people or things. No matter what may transpire, I almost always come to a resolution with the people or group. While this is vital in maintaining healthy friendships and relationships, there comes a point sometimes where, despite your best efforts, these people or groups will not change. They will remain stuck in their ways, for better or for worse. It sometimes feels like you are screaming at a brick wall. And it also feels at times like, if you took action, it would be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, or the thread that unravels the entire quilt. But three things I had to realize to get out of this cycle is:

1) I am not responsible for decisions certain people make.

2) I am not responsible for what certain people may believe.

3) I cannot offer change and new ideas to people if they are not willing to change.

In the very recent past, I had a jolting realization and revelation in my life: I need to walk away from some people. My love for them will never change, regardless of the decisions they make or what they believe, how set in their ways they are, or if their visions, dreams, goals, etc were different than mine. I can still love them, but from afar. While my cries for them to change may have fallen on deaf ears, it’s their decision to make to remain entrenched in their ways, not mine. Instead of draining my resources on them, I’ll simply let them be. If their visions, goals, ideations and whatnot don’t mesh with mine, it’s not my responsibility to change them. I might be the bad guy at day’s end by walking away, but I’m not going to be the downfall or part of it. The best I can do is let the wild horses run, and hope time or karma take their course, and that they will make or let those people see the light.

It’s a commonality in all humans to want the best for those they love and care about. But at some point, you find yourself losing your own way. You find yourself becoming ever drained by constantly trying to nudge someone into a new way of thinking or doing, and while your intentions are good, it will just leave you with a wagonload of heartbreak and disappointment. The best you can do is be there for them, but at an increased distance, and to love them from said distance while they do or think whatever. All you can do is just hope and pray that a new sunrise finds their life, and that they see the right and proper light that guides them toward better in it.

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, talk about a situation you are in or have been in that fits this post, and what you did to get through it.

As always, take care, much love, and may God richly bless,

-Jon

JON

PERFECTLY IMPERFECT

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Too often in our lives, we worry about being perfect. We’re all guilty of it in one way or another-we could be making a dish and spend hours on it, but we’ll fret if it’s slightly burned. Or we could have a poem or song idea spring to our minds, then we’ll kick ourselves afterward over a chord we missed or a note we didn’t hit. Or we could write someone a long letter, make a sales pitch, or see someone we’ve not seen in 20 years, and we’ll spend the time afterward chewing our fingernails past the first knuckle about what we should have said or done in the moment. Furthermore, we spend who-knows-how much time worrying about ourselves. Our eyes. Our hair. Our weight. If we have enough of a tan. How our smile looked in a selfie. How our voice sounded on a call or message. The list goes on and on.

I am guilty of this in my own right, especially in creative endeavors. Many, MANY times after interviewing someone, I will have those thoughts of, “well, why didn’t you say THIS,” or, “why didn’t you ask them THIS at THIS time,” etc. And many times when making videos for my ongoing radio/TV time capsule project, I’ll watch them back through and think, “why didn’t you include this piece of audio? Why did you have the audio clips in this order? Why did you cut out this much of a song?” Even in writing these blog posts, I’ll often find myself wishing I’d have gone longer, or included one more photograph, or posted one extra blurb about x, y or z.

It can be a draining and seemingly never-ending cycle. The vampire of perfectionism is highly persuasive. But in the course of a lifetime’s run, we begin to discover that, instead of being perfect, the most beautiful and genuine thing we can be is imperfect. ❤

I am spending this month of April writing various pieces of poetry, as a challenge a friend and I are partaking in for National Poetry Month. This morning, I posted a tanka, a haiku-like poem but with two extra seven-syllable lines tacked to it. It read as follows:

“dewdrop pearls shine
as forest daylight finds us
in each other’s arms
kisses on the riverbank
it’s a beautiful morning”

I shared it with her and some others that are writing with me, and our own Em pointed out that I had only four syllables in the first line when I thought I had five. After some conversation, I realized that the word pearls is only one syllable-at least in most dialects! I had spent most all of my life thinking the word was a two-syllable word, and when it was pointed out to me that it was only a single syllable, I felt highly self-conscious about my voice and largely Southern dialect. Until it was pointed out to me by my closest poetic friend Silvia that, although I had been mistaken, I had still written a beautifully-worded tanka poem for this day of the challenge. Something beautiful had sprung from this Parnassian imperfection. And without realizing it at the time, my 30-out-of-31 syllable tanka poem resembled a pearl-a sacred verbal geometry created by irritation and formed by grit. And it put everything into perspective, and showed me what to write this blog post about today.

In the constant tug-of-war we find ourselves in between striving for perfection and doing our best, we can lose sight of what our true intentions are. Renée, my closest friend and co-creator has clashed many times with me over the notion of “done is better than good”. I fought tooth and nail against that notion for so long. I had it in my head that, if something was worth doing, it was worth doing to perfection. Until I realized that perfect is just a pipe dream, something that is pumped into our heads from an early age. Perfect may be achievable in certain fields or passions or lines of work, but the width and breadth of it is that perfect is something we can only chase after. Doing your best is more than enough in most situations! And most times, doing your best will lead you to the most beautiful of situations, scenarios and places. Being yourself unapologetically will be worth more to you than any amount of silver or gold.

Post that selfie of you in a baggy t-shirt and sweatpants! Sing that song or read that poem in your beautiful voice and dialect! Embrace your eyes, nose, smile, belly, stretch marks, beauty marks, anything that makes you uniquely you! Your imperfections do not define you, nor do they make you any less of a person. They each make you your own beautiful and evergreen kind of perfect ❤

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, talk a bit about how you embrace perfect imperfection!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless!

-Jon

EM

LOOK TO THE ENDGAME

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I do not cower to opposing views. I am not afraid of challenging my thoughts on different matters. What concerns me is the possibility of becoming close-minded and living in an echo chamber surrounded only by people who agree with me. It would be a stagnant and ignorant existence. Not conducive to personal growth or learning. It is crucial to surround myself with different people and ideas, even if it’s uncomfortable. Engaging people with opposing views can broaden my perspective and deepen my understanding.

You’re under no obligation to like everyone, forgive anyone, or tolerate hatred. Listening to opposing views is evidence of my desire for actual change on the topic. Finding common ground is essential for real, long-term change. As human beings, we all have thoughts and ideas shaped by our experiences and history. By listening, we can learn what’s in a person’s heart and get to why a person holds a particular view. Even if we cannot agree with their views, we can try to understand and see how they arrived at this opinion. Only then can we find a way to meet them where they are and attempt to make them understand our perspective. Or perhaps, we will discover that we are now unsure about our views and that it’s us who need to grow and change.

Don’t be afraid to challenge your views. The real weakness lies in being unwilling to listen. Every generation grows old and the young will challenge their views in the name of progress. Don’t get left behind because of pride. When you have a conversation with someone who has opposing views, listen, be patient, and be kind. No one has ever been insulted into an agreement. We can use what we learned to be the root of their views and take steps to change their perspective or, at the very least, find common ground to move forward on.

It is important to educate ourselves to understand why people believe what they do. The ultimate goal is to come together and solve problems. We often find that our end goal has some semblance of common ground if we listen. We can either dismiss hateful views and tell them to shove them up their ass, or we can make an effort to understand the reasons behind them and stop it at the cause.

I am not saying, we should tolerate hatred. I’m suggesting the solution isn’t to hate back. Rather, to put an end to it, we need to comprehend it. Once we grasp the reasons behind it, we can make a plan to educate others and work towards a solution. Resolving significant issues takes time, support, and education. Real change comes in the seeds we sow for the next generation. The truth is we may be banging our heads against a wall, with some people. But our efforts can impact future generations, and maybe they’ll embrace love over hate.

Love Not Hate

When it comes to dealing with hatred, our focus is often on the victim. We tell them to toughen up, ignore the negativity, and build self-esteem. This puts the responsibility on the victims to adapt and fit in better. Why not redirect our energy toward understanding what creates the hate? With this knowledge, we could create change at the roots & prevent it from happening. It seems more compassionate to support the victims and put those who hate, to work on becoming better people.

This is my chosen approach and I apply this to any issue where there are strong opposing views. I focus on the problem, get to the root, and hopefully find a solution. All while supporting the victims and growing, changing, and educating myself as well. Every one of us can play a part in making the world a better place if we would only listen. Look to the end game.

JON

INTO THE FOREST

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I make no bones about it: My mind can be an awfully scary place sometimes. Sometimes, it feels like I am trapped in the forest. My intentions when I enter the forest are always good: I enter it looking for the peace, the calm and the refuge from the noise, hustle and bustle of the outside world. I start walking along the trails, I hear the birdsong overhead and the babbling of the creeks and streams, the trees are all lush and green and beautiful, the sun is bright and warm, and all cares are tossed to the wayside. This trip into the woods is delineated as my thoughts, cares and love for my friends and those around me.

But inevitably, invariably and ultimately, time gets away from me. The dark of night slips up on me, and I find myself without a tent, flashlight, food, blade or any way of communication, to say nothing of my lacking a lighter for a fire. And the howling is distant but growing closer. The yellow dots of light in the far woods begin to draw closer. The wolves are on their way, looking to claim their most fool-hearty victim once again: Me. But these wolves aren’t just any pack of them: They are my fears, anxieties and worries coming back to ravage me one more time.

This week, I found myself once again being held torn apart by my over-revving, overthinking mind. Silence from friends on Facebook when I checked in. People near and dear to me snapping or giving me cold, hard responses when I spoke to them. Overthinking how my friends were reacting to events going on in their lives. Feelings of not being where I think I should be in life. Fearing I had overstepped my boundaries and overstayed my welcome in my friend’s lives. Fearing about over communicating and being a pest to my friends. Worries about other friends and when I will be able to see them, if I can. Worries about moving and money. Losing sleep. Not eating right or hydrating properly. This week, I was lost in the woods. The wolves in my mind were showing their teeth, growling, ready to pounce on the ill-starred and helpless wanderer that had entered their forbidden territory.

Several nights this week, I found myself pinned to my bed with cold sweat rolling from my brow and my stomach turning flips over scenarios, real and imagined. And I couldn’t reach out. Most everyone I could turn to was sound asleep. By day, I could fend off the wolves fairly effectively, but by nightfall, I was tired and beat, and they pounced, each taking turns biting and ripping chunks of me away to keep as their spoils.

Once again, I let my mind get the upper hand on me, and I was a battered and bleeding pile of bones once again, emaciated by the lostness of I in the forest of my mind, and decimated by the voracious lobos that my thoughts, fears, anxieties, etc had manifested themselves as. I had to once again use what few morsels of strength I had remaining to drag myself out of the woods somehow and either crawl back to my safe place, or try to flag down someone and have them bring me back, despite the silence I had endured.

One would think surrender would be the only option, to just lay down and give in and let my mind have its way with me. There has been times in the not so distant past that surrender sounded like a very tempting and viable option. How much more of me could the wolves take before there was absolutely nothing remaining of me? How much more of my blood had to spill before I realized enough was enough? How many more times would I have to stitch and salve my wounds and go back into that forest to search for the light?

But then I re-realized a very important thing, something that, in my fight for survival, I had let get away from me:

Strength in numbers.

Strength.
In.
Numbers.

I do not have to keep letting the darkness and the wolves catch me unsuspecting. I have near and dear friends. I had only focused on their silences this week without any context behind them; I had in my scared and myopic state hyperfocused on the silence, when I know that these people would drop everything to help me, if I need it. If I do not have the tools and resources of my own, I can call on them and they can lend them, or better still, I can take these friends with me into the woods. I can take comfort in knowing they have the tools to pitch a tent, build a fire, cook a meal and keep those ugly, leering wolves at bay for the night. I do not have to go into the woods alone. I know that, if my fears and worries and anxieties were founded about them, they would reach out and let me know and would give me options to help them. I know these people have my back. I have strength in numbers. And I don’t have to fight alone. It’s taken me 26 years to realize this, but strength in numbers is something that overcome most anything.

I hope this blog finds you well, and in the comments, tell about some of the people who helps you fight off those wolves when they appear in your own mind!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless,

-Jon

EM

DON’T INVITE THE BEARS

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Handling toxic situations can be challenging, and if we don’t approach them differently, we are setting ourselves up for failure. We will be doomed to live like salmon swimming upstream, expending energy and effort, only to make a few inches of progress. The difference is, the salmon don’t invite the bears to disrupt their momentum, to push them back to the starting line, or to pick them and their friends off one by one and eat them for lunch. Every time we allow a toxic person to disrupt our lives and force us to start again, it’s like inviting those bears to lunch.

Don’t invite the bears!

While toxic people are responsible for their actions, we are also responsible for what we allow in our lives. Although it’s understandable to accept apologies, if we continue to allow toxic people to stay and wait for them to change, it will poison the whole stream and cause innocent people to suffer. We bear some responsibility for the harm it brings to our journey. While the intentions are good, and some people love deeply and want everyone to be happy and thriving, continually living with toxicity while hoping things will change will never bring peace.

Everyone handles personal boundaries differently. Some have no boundaries and take on the burden again and again, some allow those lines to blur depending on the person crossing them, and some fiercely enforce their boundaries and protect their peace. There are even people who invite the bear to lunch, and we’ve all had toxic people slip through our radar. In these moments, it’s often not the toxic person paying the price and being given a chance to grow and learn, it’s innocent people, good people, suffering again and again. We have to see these moments as opportunities to learn and strengthen our boundaries.

Not everyone who is toxic is evil or cold-hearted; many believe they are coming from a place of love. Often, it’s a learned behavior or a response to trauma. We’ve all exhibited toxic behavior at some point in our lives, but the difference is, we learned from our failures and grew from the experience. We must be willing to force the hand of those who are harming themselves and others, even if it means letting them go to create space for growth. Sometimes it’s necessary to break the toxic cycle and prevent them from stealing joy and energy from those around them. As a friend, I won’t blindly support everything you say you want on this journey. I’ll always meet you where you’re at, but I expect the same in return. It’s essential to expect what someone is capable of and not accept anything less. We must love someone enough to challenge them and push them to grow, even if it’s uncomfortable in the moment.

If you want a friend who won’t be honest when you’re hurting yourself, me, or others, I’m not her. But if you want a friend who will fiercely support all of your efforts to become the person you want to be, sign me up.

JON

MYTHS, SAYINGS AND IDEAS

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As we go along in the span of our lives, there are many things we are told and many things we have seared into our minds, whether it be from someone looking to try and help us, or someone just looking to pass along a little advice. Many times, these things serve us in good stead. But some of these advices turn out to be nothing more than temporary band-aids for the troubles we face at best, and bogus myths don’t amount to a hill of beans in our lives at worst. Today, we will take a look at some of those things we are told that may work short-term, but are not compatible with us in the long journey of our growth, change, healing and forward movement.

On the idea of “Fake it ’til you make it”

This is what we will touch on first. Six little words have never had such a tempting lilt to so many. It’s easy to take up this credo to a situation we are facing in our lives that is difficult, or might take a lot of time. But it’s a dangerous trap to fall into, if we’re not careful. Those six words have ruined more good lives than alcohol or hard drugs ever could. Sometimes, we say this to ourselves as a sort of safety blanket in the midst of a hard situation, or we could even go as far as use it as a reason not to do something or face a problem that is brewing in our lives. We can get fat and lazy off of those six words, if we don’t watch our step. We can even let those six words wrap their vines around our dreams and visions and goals and choke them off completely, until they wither away and die.

And I know what some people might say: “But isn’t manifestation tantamount to faking it?” I can speak for no one else but myself, but in my way of seeing it, manifestation is equal parts heart, mind and soul. There is nothing wrong with wishing for things, but there is something wrong with not doing the work to get those things, or reach those goals, or live out those dreams. Your dreams, wants & desires will not be realized without a bit of elbow grease.

The best course of action is not to fake it, but rather to roll up our sleeves and face whatever we need to face in our lives head-on. Whether it be breaking off a potentially toxic friendship or relationship, or quitting a job and opening the door for a new career, or moving to a new town or city entirely, or picking a college or university to further ourselves, whatever the scenario may be. Instead of telling ourselves “fake it ’til you make it,” we can tell ourselves, “learn it ’til you earn it,” or, “practice ’til it’s powerful.” You might be able to talk or bullshit your way through a situation temporarily, but fixes for those situations do not come until the work is done, no matter how difficult it may be, and no matter how long it may take.

You cannot fake the work that needs to be done, or the desire to rise above your current situation. You have to want it bad enough. And faking it is NOT the way to go. The “fake it ’til you make it” mindset may work for a short time on things in the near-term, but becoming entrenched in it will only cause mental harm, and will only fuel imposter syndrome inside you.

On fear & hesitation

A quote on hesitation by the great motivational author, writer & coach David J. Schwartz goes as follows:

“Hesitation only enlarges & magnifies the fear. Take action promptly. Be decisive.”

It’s human nature to have fear or reservations about things that transpire in our lives, but we must not let it dictate our every move down to the letter. If we are not careful, we will let fear and hesitation and reservation steal some of the best times of our lives away from us, to say nothing of the opportunities that it may cost us. Humans are afraid of change. We are creatures of habit, and also of repetition. Once we sink our teeth into an idea or belief or routine or whatnot, it will take forever and a free t-shirt and matching cup of coffee to get us to turn loose of it. Being the big fish in a small pond has its perks, but it simply is not sustainable in the long run. There is more to life than what we see in our every day lives, and the myopia that ensues from this mindset will be a major detriment to us if we continue to linger in it.

Apart from this, we must learn also to take calculated chances and risks in our lives more often. Many times, we find ourselves chest-deep in a wanting or yearning pang over someone or something we desire, but we get cold feet and back out of it before we can act on it. It’s important to take those risks and chances when they come, while also being keenly aware that, if we don’t put at least some preparation into it, it runs the risk of backfiring, and we will touch on this a bit more in the next segment of this blog. But if we are patient, we will soon have all that we have ever wanted!

Hesitation and fear are powerful animals, but we are more powerful fighters against these! We get cozy in the normalcy and sameness of the situations we experience every day, but to grow and change into our better and best selves, we must the page and write some new chapters. History has never favored those who have sat still in life; the ones who got up and rocked the boat and raised their voice and led armies and battalions and marches are the ones who have statues raised and stories written about them!

The war against complacency and sameness and small thinking is not won in a day; it can be a lifelong process for some of us. The battlefield of our minds can be a very bloody and treacherous place at times. We must always be alert for whatever our minds pitch at us when we propose changes, ranging from spears to missiles. But with hard work and a willingness & burning desire to want to be better, we can come out victorious, and reap the rewards of the changes, no matter how spooky they may seem to us!

On being prepared

Many times in life, we see an opportunity arise and we say to ourselves, “God, if only I were more prepared, I’d do it!” Well, what’s stopping you from making the preparations for when it comes along again, if it does so? As mentioned above, taking bold risks and chances can pay huge dividends, but only if we first season them with calculated preparedness. Flying by the seat of your pants may work in some short-term situations, but we must have a proper course of action and path forward if we are to someday get what we want and deserve in our lives.

Think of it as trying to find your way out of the forest: Sure, you can chop and hack your way through the limbs, branches, weeds and bushes and come out in a clearing somewhere, but would you rather wing it and hope it works, or would you rather have a map showing you the easiest and best way out of the forest?

I know this can be a touchy subject, as many have grown up having known only how to wing it, or only how to fight for what they have, but there is another way to get what you rightly deserve in this life. You did the best you could until you knew better. Now that you know better, it’s time to do better! No longer do you have to fight for what you want; you wield all the tools and resources necessary to get anything you want, even if you don’t yet realize this fact. You have fought long enough and hard enough; it’s time you had a smoother and easier ride into tomorrow, and toward what you want in this life!

I believe too that it is better to be over-prepared for a situation than to be under-prepared and left with egg on your face when/if the situation does arise. I know that some situations will blindside us, but if we look back on all that we have accrued in terms of wisdom and preparation, we will see the path through the situation open for us, more times than not. All that we have been through has prepared us for those times when the bottom may drop out. It could be one hour in the span of a life, it could be a great many months or even years. But when those situations find us, look back on how you managed and overcame. You have survived 100% of your worst days so far; read over the notes you took in your mind, and use them as much as you see fit. And never EVER stop observing and taking notes; this is how we continue to grow, and how we continually rise above those dark situations!

We may be blessed in our lives and have preparations for things that ultimately never come to be, but we will at least have that knowledge, and we can take some of it and apply it to other situations that may rise within our lives! Always, always stay prepared ❤

I hope this blog post finds you well, and in the comments, tell me a little bit about your feelings on these subjects, and what you do to keep growing, evolving and being the best version of yourself that you can be!

As always, take care, much love and may God richly bless,

-Jon

JON

DEAR MOM

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February 18. The day will never not send a chill up my spine, when I think of what happened on this day, 19 years ago. I have told the story of what happened that day in blogs prior, so I will spare it from being repeated, but there are some things on days like this that qualify for repetition. And so, I will repeat a letter that I included in one of those past blogs. It is a motherly variation of a letter that Paul Harvey recited on a broadcast nearly 30 years ago, a letter than was originally shared by a fellow named Dr. Jack Schreiber of Canfield, Ohio, on the occasion of Father’s Day. A few years back, I decided to take what Dr. Schreiber had written, and translate it to someone who has lost their mother. Although I do not have children of my own, and though my mother has not been gone as long as what is in this letter, it nevertheless resonates soundly with me, and, if you struggle with the loss of your mother, may you find some comfort in this letter as well. From here onward, I will be quoting.

Dear Mom,

I am writing this to you, even though you have been dead for 30 years. Whether you can read these lines, perhaps you can read my thoughts. But there is still some things I need to say, even if it’s too late.

Now that my own hair is gray, I remember how yours got that way. I was such an ass, mom……..Foolishly believing in my own teenage wisdom, when I know now I would have benefitted most from the calm, right, wholesome wisdom of yours.

Most of all, now that I have children of my own, I want to confess my greatest sin against you: The feeling I had, for which you did not understand. Though when I look back now, I know that you did understand. You understood me better than I did my own self……How patient you were, and how futile your efforts to get close to me, to win my confidence, to be my guardian angel were. I wouldn’t let you. I simply wouldn’t let you. What was it that held me aloof? I’m not sure, but despite my best efforts, my own children had to build the same wall between them and I. And there’s no way I can climb over it or go through it, and what a shame, what a waste.

I wish you were here now, across this table from me. There’d be no wall now. We’d both understand, now. And God, mom, how I do love you, and how I dearly wish I could be your companion again. Well…….maybe that day isn’t far off. I’m guessing you’ll be there, waiting to take me by the hand and lead me up the further slope. I’ll put in the first thousand years or so, making you realize that not one pang of yearning, not one morsel of thought, not one second of worry you spent on me was wasted, it all came back, and it all paid off eventually.

I know that the richest, most precious thing on earth and one of the least understood things is that mighty love and tenderness and that everlasting craving to help that a mother feel toward her little ones. But none of her children can realize this until the roles are reversed. Even now, mom, I’m tired, weak and longing, and would hasten to join up there in the Great Beyond, except for my children…….They’re all fine, sweet, caring and upstanding young ones, all very capable, self-sufficient, highly talented and loving toward all. But, mom, I reckon I’ll stand by a little longer, to help them along, and to watch them shoot for the moon and land among the stars, and to be there for them, if they ever need me. You understand.

Signed,

Your loving child

Just Another Badass Warrior