The Lady Bug

One of the hardest parts about being a man is making mistakes.

You set out to sea with dreams so big you never really knew how far you could reach. But what happens when the ship hits land and the journey has hit a new twist. Old dreams become bitter battles of glory like medals without a names.

The second hardest part about being a man is knowing your mistakes.

You feel you've been through the world and back more times than columbus. You got life, philosophies, or even that nice persona in tact. But truly you don't really know more than you're willing to learn.

The third hardest part about being a man getting up and facing your mistakes.

If I were not capable of being good then I believe there would not be an interior struggle to fight the bad inside me meaning if I were truly to lend to my emotions of being a lost cause then I would totally be "lost" and unable to see it. I would be content or yet never uneasy with my bahavior. The human conscience or "heart" is gold, but there's a lot of debris along the way before you reach the purest form of a stone heart.

I've seen the mountain. My nausea increases. The trail binding towards the sky harbor. So unevenly paced my feet control my hearts satisfaction. Is this my first walk or has it been years since I've been on this trail. Surely, I look to my left and my right. I see many pass me by with ease and some with many sorrows/burdens. I find strength though I do not possess it. Maybe it's the innate gifts men are born with. The desire to dream and conquer.

I look to my Father's eyes. Oh weary man you've seen the top of the mountain and you've seen the bottom. You've known the tip of wisdom and the jagged edge of destruction. Please tell me,

"What is the best part of being a man?"

He never spoke, but his walk showed.

His lips never moved, but his will was never mute.

The walk is the climb and the climb is the walk.

It's not so much what you see when you get to the top of life's Everest's, but what you receive on the way down.

For we are more than we think. For we are what we were designed and created to be. The most important part of the walk isn't the start, but the finish.

I take a breathe. Wipe the sweat from thy forehead. Plead with myself for one more try and awaken the inner spirit. Was my inspiration just a dream or was it just destiny written within my tired soul?

The walk is steady, the walk is ready... grace appears as a lady bug lays peacefully on my shoulder. Does luck stand on my shoulder or have I just happened to stand on luck itself. I am the man that's coming down the mountain, I am the answer and I am the question.

What is the best part of being a man?

The Shape Of Life

The stormy beach. Shipwrecked hearts that land ashore.

Tide that rises as it pleases.

The coldness kills. A pain that ills.

Blame it on the helpess. Blame it on the faithless.

When hands for prayers are hands for fists.

When eyes for sight are eyes for fright.

Believe in pillars of sand and turn water into wine.

Still no peace rests at bay.

Shield me from the torment. The water stings.

The platform of life is molding, I'm rolling.

My edges bent. My wrinkles sprained.

Rust becomes gold in the warmth of the sun.

When what's old reminds me of the new.

My colors change.

My old shape fades.

The shape of life turned me into stone.

The chiseled piece of rock I call home.

The Waiting

Is it the mystery of life... getting what you want when you want it?

It's not a lie, but a truth that most of the greatest miracles and desires come in the moments where we least expect them to happen to us. I know we live in a "now" culture, but it's not just in a social media. It lies beneath the skin. The hardest truth to find comes directly from the purest of hearts. No man can read or tell the script your heart writes in secret.

I've found sage wisdom through the disasters of false hopes, desires, and honesty. What we desire most in a moment may not occur in the prime of your own timing though you are willing to bet your soul on it's prize. Truly we are fortunate we don't always get what we want when we want it for if we always did I think we'd look a little less human and possibly a little more selfish... or better yet ungrateful in due seasons.

Maybe it's to every moment it's own, maybe it's not. Sometime's grace is the second coming of an opportunity dealt in a delayed time just for us to come around and hit this one out of the park.

Losing isn't always losing forever, it's simply waiting for the right day for it to rain.

-Emanuel

Bob Hope

"You haven't failed until you've given up"

I've been watching tons of films with an elderly man who calls himself Bob Hope. He's become my new friend and I guess I've become his new friend too according to his words this morning. Bob is a very special person, I don't know him as well as my mother does, but I sure admire him. Sometime's I wish I could be more like him, he holds what he loves with such vigor that it can sometimes drive others crazy.

His love/words are in constant "repeat" and maybe that's what love should be.

My mother does private care and I've been able to watch him for a few hours a day for her. It's funny how much just a few words, a few hours, and even a stare of a smile can change your life. He was in an accident in his youth and it has affected him in his sixties with this condition to repeat a lot of the same words as an elderly man, but surely he has not forgotten the most important things in his life to him.

His parents, "West Side Story" the movie, and Pizza.

For it's not so much what we're given, but what we do with with what we have. To love those who have been given to us on a daily basis.

As far as I know I think with him watching "West Side Story" over and over again I could never get tired of it like the time we shared with our beloved Maria. His voice shimers lyric and melody over characters parts as the television plays on. His tears fall exactly when my own heart breaks during the film and we can both agree we had a good time sharing in this story together.

Bob asked me to come visit him next week. He told me he had a great time hanging out with me. I told him I did too and that I'd be there.

He may be in constant repeat, but I'm beyond honored to have been included in his life. I guess I haven't felt so welcomed by another human being in a long time that it changed something in me.

Bob changed his last name himself and I'm starting to think why can't I do the same. Why can't I do the same about my life, the people I love, and the things I care about so much. Why not?

Why can't I be... Mani Hope.