I'm Back...well sort of...

"In great pain can be found great comfort". Never could find out who owns that quote. Pain is found everywhere. From loss of life, injury, old age, and yes; even from good things like learning Algebra, taking on new responsibilities, and trying to just be a better person. So are pain and comfort just two sides of the same mirror?
 
The athlete exercises his/her muscle to develop greater strength and endurance, yet there is great pain in the process of growth. The scholar continues to add upon their repertoire of knowledge by spending long hours agonizing over its purpose and place. All things seem to require pain in order to gain comfort right? Let’s test this theory a bit.

Will the parents that lost a young child to cancer ever find comfort in the loss? Will the soldier that lost his/her legs every stop missing them? You ask “where is the comfort after the all pain in those situations”? My response is: there is no comfort in it…. So maybe we have this all wrong…or maybe we need to understand that pain and comfort are not “cause and effect” but instead a path back to being innocent and whole again. Perhaps without seeking comfort in the pain you can never be whole again.

Well now a short story about someone in the loop of pain and comfort:

A person that I would like to consider a friend recently refreshed my views on this. He woke up on October 2^nd on the floor of his Phoenix house realizing that he could not feel anything on his left side. He had suffered a stroke. He was immediately brought to the ICU of the local hospital. He has gone through weeks of therapy since and is finally at home continuing his "out patient" therapy. As they say in the song "In a New York Minute" his life changed. What makes this a little more personal is that unlike me,  he was the epitome of health…rode his bicycle to work, worked out, low body fat, and yes, a smaller list of vises than I myself have…..OK daughter MUCH Smaller list…oh and I almost forgot…younger too.

I initially met him when we were both younger and full of "spit and vinegar". We both played flag football against each other many years ago and believe me, there was never any quit in him. He attacked everything in life in that manor (Boxing, Football, Karate, a debate, and trying to break the bank in Vegas to name a few...). He felt he could always win at anything. There was fight in him no matter what the game was. Now he has entered a game he has never played before. Fighting to re-define what he will become. We all do this from time to time but the stakes of this game are much higher than most.

So why this story?  Mom always taught me it is not what happens to you in life that matters; it’s what you do with your life afterwards. How you react to life is ninety-nine cents out of a dollar! We choose to keep pain just as we choose to seek comfort. Mom grew older and eventually found the need to be in a wheel chair however she never stopped exploring the need for comfort. Although she was in constant pain she never made that her mantra. She continued to realize that her mind was fresh and full of energy and found comfort in the things she could do. A few days before she finally passed she told me that she was ready to find a new comfort. She asked me to look after my Dad (he was in the hospital having an operation on his brain …cancer) and told me she was ready to let go to the comfort of the unknown. While some people look at this as giving up I do not believe she did. When the comfort of the physical is no longer available you can only seek the comfort of the soul. She completed the cycle and passed of a heart attack a day later. I have to tell the truth…because of her strength, I was OK with it. She has taught me well……well let’s get back to the original story.

The stroke victims name is Jim and he helped me to remember my Mother’s lesson. While he is recovering from his stroke he and his family will have a long road ahead that will provide many new turns in his life. Many people would wallow in their loss….and just seek the pain. That is a coarse Jim has never chosen. Knowing him and reading from his blog (http://www.other-road.blogspot.com/) he will find the comfort in his situation and turn it into something that will motivate and inspire others. He already has begun and he doesn't even know it. Giving freely from the heart is the answer...being Innocent the goal. Because as he has said "The solution is each of us caring for each other, one person at a time".  He will eventually win at this game as he has all of the past ones. Winning is just another form of comfort. And beside, that is just what is "written on his heart". Prove me right Jimmy......

So my learning for today is complete but I guess my in initial statement was off a little…should have been “In great pain can be found great comfort…if you look for it”.

Mom is smiling….…

Next up Chapter two of the book......for Emily....

It's All in the Title

Well everyone has a story...right? Everyone has an interesting life full of adventure that is fun to read about....correct? Now if you only could read about my consistently uneventful day you would be entertained to new levels....NOT! In fact, most of our storys are the same. We sleep in as late as we can, head to work, look forward to every break (especially lunch) and for the work day to end, fix some supper, and settle down in front of the boob tube.......total exhilaration!! Yes most lives (mine included) are boring. Most of our distractions in life deal with fantasy. We watch TV, read books, play video games, and spend much of our non working time engulfed in a "Grand Illusion" that provides some way to escape from reality for a while and imagine life from a different side of the mirror. Well I decided a while back to join in, though from a little different perspective, to this creation of the so-called "Grand Illusion". So how could I help others escape this earthly state for a little while? I have tried writing a song (Billy Joel I'm not), family and trip movies (watched them all go for a smoke break as soon as I put it on), painting (fences are all I can paint), and designing an empire on "Sim City" that fell quicker than my Facebook stock. So where was I to go..... Well after great pain I came up with a plan. I would write a book!! No not one of those technical / non-fiction works....but something that had interesting characters and non-traditional story lines. So you say "what the heck do you know about writing a fictitious book"....nothing. And what makes you think you even know how to write (from my wife).......I can't. But if there is one strength I have its doing something that I am not good at......where was the badge for that when I was in the Boy Scouts? So here I go. The book is no where near being done but I will share a few pages on this blog from time to time just to hold me to task. There will be re-writes so the final version may be quite different. I figure the title of the book will come to me once it is finished but I have penned the initial title "A Closet in the Heart".  Caution! There may be some colorful language that is unsuitable for children once in a while...leave you inner child home.

And it begins..........

A Closet in the Heart
 A Novel By Urick Gorkowski

We live most of our lives in the white spaces, the time spent between the things that truly matter. Like the blank space between words on a page little is offered and zero is said. Nothing worth remembering ever happens there. Duke often thought he had wasted his time there way too often. No good memories, no bad ones, just "time-a-ticking" with no purpose.

"This traffic is bullshit" he muttered into his travel cup filled with a mixture of coffee, cream, and splenda. He had made this trip daily for years and yet, barely could remember any one of them. His life was as empty as the gas gauge "E". There was nothing left for him to want…..nothing to see…nothing to feel. There was only the dam traffic and the white space. Duke lived most of his life by following a few simple rules: Don’t fuck with anyone and you won’t get fucked with; karma will take care of assholes so screw revenge; and finally no matter how special you may think your suppose to be, you are just another one of the assholes.

"I’m so fucking tired" he sighed. While Duke knew he was just another asshole he had always aspired to being a little more. But age took away the new in his spirit and all that was left is white space. Innocents can never be re-claimed once it is lost. Duke wished he could find it one more time. Just to see the world with wonder like a child was his greatest wish…."just enjoying a butterfly for Christ sake". But this simple wish eluded him…. even in his dreams. He was letting his life fade to black one day at a time and no longer gave a shit about anything. "It’s too late" he muttered to himself…….."Too fucking late".

"I wonder what prick fucked up this day" he snarled. There always was some prick fucking up Duke’s life.

The traffic was at a standstill and so was Duke’s patience. "Dammit" he growled out. Taking a deep breath he noticed that he still had a half of cup of coffee left. One of the few pleasures he had left was a good cup of Joe. He almost preferred it lukewarm so he could just drink as much as he wished without burning his mouth.

As he picked up the cup he noticed that his hands looked old. Not dry and cracked like the hands of someone who performed manual labor their whole life but as someone who had lived too long. Covered with age spots; waxy, pale, and with a slight yellow tint they seemed as if they were no longer real or alive. Wax hand he thought…." fucking wax hands".

"Leben für den Stamm…Sterben für den Stamm". Those words came alive in Duke’s conscious whenever he was stressed. He had heard them first when he was barely six years old. Now, at sixty three, the words were older than Duke’s memory. He had heard his dad say them often. Sometimes around his friends and sometimes to stranger that were visiting their home. Back then he could never figure out why there were so many strangers that visited their home. Suddenly the truck in front of him began speeding up. "I guess the fucking prick is finally out of the way". He was finally on his way again…….Fade to white….
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Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of.........Whatever!

What things are we allowed to get angry at? My list shifts like the shedding fur from my Cattle dog Chelsea as the fan blows it across the floor. Perhaps it all depends on your perspective at the time? Examining what anger is may be the key. It has been said that comedy is "delighting in others misfortunes" [1]. There is actually a German word used to describe it......Schadenfreude. But is there a word to describe anger? Well one definition I like is:

Anger is a normal emotion with a wide range of intensity, from mild irritation and frustration to rage. It is a reaction to a perceived threat to ourselves, our loved ones, our property, our self-image, or some part of our identity. Anger is a warning bell that tells us that something is wrong [2]

Well let us break that down a little...Can you be angry but not emotional? Common sense would say no. Anger is an emotion. Does a perceived threat always lead to just anger? That also would probably be answered "no" by most people. Do you get angry every time something is wrong...probably not. This anger stuff is pretty tricky since it does not seem to have any consistent laws that cause it. Without the rules of "cause and effect" invoked how do we understand it? Perhaps we need to examine it from the perspective of the mirror. Lets go back to childhood....Why does one child get angry when you make them eat their vegetable and another just accept it? It it just simply that one likes the taste and the other does not? Or is it even more devious......is it that they were taught to like it? Can anger be nothing more than something we are taught to feel. Without "cause and effect" what other explanations can there be? So if that is the case can't we also be taught to not feel anger? Maybe anger is no more than a tool we are taught to use to obtain an end result. Do we just use anger to obtain a result? Now there is a "cause and effect"! One problem though....what happens when we use anger as a tool against ourselves? Self hatred is not a good healthy condition nor does it assist us in obtaining a good result. Perhaps we should use a different tool to obtain results on ourselves. Forgiveness, love, happiness, they to are also tools. The tough part is learning to use them in place of anger. We all struggle with this. Somehow I know the mirror has the answer. I will keep gazing into it and hope it appears.......

Ends or Transformation?

Ends....Do they really exist? From most spiritual views, a soul always exists in some form or another so there is no end of life only transformation. Under this premise our souls are with us in life and death so the only transformation is the body....from a structured set of atoms to......well dust. The body forgets how it was aligned. So the question that we should consider is: Does the soul forget its structure also? Does the soul remember who or what it was? Eric Clapton's song "Tears in Heaven" explores this notion. Will we know each other again once we get to heaven....or should we? Currently, at an atomic level, we are all connected. The gaps of the atoms may vary, but the connection is still there. However those connections constantly change.....just as the connections from life to death change. The underlying law that governs this is time. Without time there is no transformation. Our memories are the only things that defy time. You can recall a picture in your mind of a summers day, your wedding,  a first kiss, or even the death of someone you love. That memory is frozen in time in your mind. Is that memory also frozen in memory of your soul? Are souls governed by time if they always exist? If souls do retain memories then maybe there truly is no end...no time that passes. And maybe it truly is those memories that keeps us alive forever.





 

When you look at a mirror what do you see? The answer is quite simple.....what you look at. From the mirror's point of view things are different. The mirror reflects all you see and everything else that is present....the door behind you...a hair brush...the painting on the wall that is off to your left. The mirror reflects the total picture of reality, from all angles, not just the part the individual is focusing on. This blog will be used to discuss the two sides of reality and how they mold each other.