I am nothing but behavior

I am nothing but a speck of dust in a universe that is infinite

I control nothing but my behavior

I can fool myself to believe I am in control of my destiny

I am not, my behavior may make it possible to achieve, arrive at a desired destination

I still have no guarantee that I will accomplish and attain this focal point

I must acknowledge to myself and the universe that I have little control at all

I have nothing but my behavior, it is my rock, foundation

It is formed by my belief system as is yours

It is molded by the examples of other souls, pre-experienced and caring

It is truth, words are nothing without the demonstration supported by behavior

It defines my soul, allows me to co-habitat with other souls

It provides strength when It is most needed and solace when I am sick

I have no control of illness but my behavior may invite certain physical calamities

I haven’t the control on my prosperity as I would like to believe, poor behavior will destroy but good intentions and wishful investing can as well

I must accept that my behavior will define my character, show my true worth

I am nothing in the grand scheme of the universe except to those whom wish to open up for me

I am nothing but love, wrapped in behavior, I was formed because of love, I was designed by love and it is only by my behavior that I can honor My God , Parents, My Spouse, My Children ,My Grandchildren and friendships that have molded my journey.

I am my behavior, the flesh will some day dissolve, and if I talked about after I am taken it will be about my behavior, my love and everything else formed by my free will which is behavior granted by my Creator

Peace be with you

Park 2015

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A little dislike about age

I was sitting at the kitchen table eating my breakfast with my thoughts. I was mulling on how I don’t like this period of my life, I’m going on sixty. The sun raced across the table enlightening my hands as I moped in my self-pity when I realized that this is nothing new, not liking a period in my life. Why is that? I certainly have been blessed enough to live with a full,overfull tummy. I never woke up without a sanctuary a heated sanctuary. I have Problems, who hasn’t .

In my fifties I found myself becoming unemployed, diabetic and saying goodbye to my parents, and in-laws. Everything my Father and I worked towards, the family business disappeared. So at fifty-three everything that I was use to ceased,waking up well before the sunrise, working at least 10 hours a day 6 days a week if not more, I doubt if I worked a 40 hour week but 3 times in my life since I was seventeen. I don’t have the money to show for it , it was never about the money it was about keeping my word, the word I gave my father when I was in trouble and need his help. I wish I could brag about financial accomplishments but I think most small businesses in America usually are poorly compensated for their efforts despite what is assumed by many. So I do believe My God compensated me by arranging the opportunity to babysit my grandchildren and prepare the older generation for their death. It was a time of roller-coaster emotions yet I found peace, Several time I could feel My Lords presence and physically feel peaceful and strong when needed. So if someone ask me if I believe in Christ I have to answer How can I not?He was with me when no one else was.

My forties was a blur , only to find myself broken. I laid on a gurney, blinded because of a mild stroke, I laid there asking myself what next. I felt a great peace come when I said. God will be done, realizing that I could not fix this. I couldn’t. I will never forget that peace, except with a verbal confrontation with the doctor who was scolding me for not taking care of myself , which I reminded him he doesn’t work for free, I had just got on my wife’s insurance policy and was about to set up going to the family Physician, Another by-product of small business un-affordable health insurance. The doctor left quietly and I laughed at the nurse when she asked me to sign the release documents. I had to have her put my hands where I needed to scribble. I sat in the same chair three days then decided to find a way into work and gradually my sight returned to a less efficient but ever so workable miracle, yes miracle in my opinion. It probably was the mortal nail for my fathers business, I was no way the man that I was before the stroke. I didn’t like this time of my life either, and I was wrong to say this then as well for many events happen that where good that followed that day on the gurney.

My thirties I really don’t remember to much other than I worked , and worked and worked . My kids were being raised, we didn’t have much but we all had full tummies and plenty of interesting times. I somehow found out that I like to paint and draw, and wasn’t that bad at it . I didn’t have much time but found it possible to get lost in the basement and paint away.We had build a good size business and I would find myself being on call 24/7. This pattern caused me to develop the attitude if I can’t get it done in a day don’t bother,bad attitude that I still haven’t been able to undo. This should have been the prime of my life, maybe it was but I can’t remember much. At times I struggle to find memories of the kids and I. I can remember some of the bad moves and struggles at work but very little of my personal life. I didn’t like this time either, again I am grateful I made it pass this without doing to much damage

Many go on about their fun times the twenties were, Me not so. I was building a family, actually I had been daddy since I was eighteen and found work was the reward for having such a good time a few times. I think the twenties was the age of stupid mistakes, arrogance and fruitless dreams. It had some good times of course. I bought my house by my 21 birthday and found myself growing and growing,Physically of course. I had abandon my Catholic faith years ago. I never stop believing but was totally frustrated with the Church I belong to. It always seemed that when I need help I couldn’t find it. So I started to explore some other alternatives till I just closed the door to God till I received that day on the gurney. Nope I didn’t like the twenties either.

Now my youth was very interesting and to say I like my youth would be a big lie. I was born a pre-me and because of incubator burns I was left with one eyes that has little vision and required me to wear coke-bottle glasses to this day, my other eye was and is fantastic. My parents enrolled me into a Catholic School and I was one of a few that went to school in a white shirt and tie in a blue-collar military town so running for my house which was at the other end of the development was the norm. I gotten used to being called names and bullied both at home and believe it or not at the Catholic school because I was a kid from that side of town. The nuns even treated me different as if that what is the use, after all the kids thought it was cool to drink cough syrup, I just laughed as I lit up. They made me bathroom monitor I think one kid smoke in the school, me. I just didn’t fit in till I left Catholic school and went to public high school, there skipping school, getting high and surfing was all I wanted to do, And that is what I did do till I found myself needing to grow up and be a man, be responsible . I did not like this either, but I am grateful that God’s lessons that I did learn while going to that Catholic School at least steered me in the right direction. I was not a good Catholic, a bad Catholic but Catholic I was, I am , As God wills it.

Actually So what does this little rant have to do with anything, for most that read this nothing. I really do like this time because it is the only time, there is no other time it all is one time, each period formative for the next, each a chance to correct, learn and benefit from the other. I live in a time where I can type or post if you like a little about life and sail it out there into the universe, perhaps it will be saved and returned and read by someone whom I care about  and cares about me , you got to like this. I think !

Depended on others, I am

Putting on my pants, I realized just how depended on others I am.
Who was responsible for the material my pants were made from?
Who cut up the pattern of the pants that my legs I did jam?
Who was the seamstress , where are those lovely folks from?

Wonder who was the packer who folded and wrapped those stylish pants?
Was it forklifted and boxed and ready to ship?
How many supervisors, managed and danced and went of rants?
How about the broker and lawyer and all that legal stuff on the slip?

Yet I feel I need no one , well that a joke.
I like to have the talent to create out of air,
there was so many task,many hands that carried this yoke.
They provided me these pants, to spare you from seeing me bare.

No one can live on this earth alone.
Even today’s hermit isn’t capable of providing everything
less he wears pants from plants,dead animals or stone.
and that still came from the Almighty God our King!
Period .

2014 Park

Inner Voice

I don’t remember when I first heard my inner voice. I cannot remember the first time I laid my eyes on my mother’s face. I remember little bits and pieces of my life before I entered school. I remember my little hat falling into the water of an amusement ride and crying my eyes out. I remember going to the next door neighbors to play with a boy about my age and his matchbox cars . I remember at the age of five, in the hospital, blind because of a procedure and my parents bringing me chocolate milk shakes which I drank with a paper straw, to this day my favorite drink and I search for paper straws. Often when I watch my grandchildren I ask how much will they remember of this moment I shared with them. Is it normal that I don’t remember so much of those formatives years? 

 

From the very moment I started watching and caring for my grandchildren I noticed that they were more than a little body that stumbled, and struggled to communicate, I would almost recognize a human whom was more fully formed than I expected. They would often behave as an adult whom was struggling with a traumatic  situation and was struggling to grab on to what ever works to communicate . I could almost see a light in their eyes at times as if their soul was welcoming my efforts to make them comfortable and entertained. I often stated and would like to believe that they just arrived from Heaven and they’re adjusting to life here.

 

As a caregiver for dying loved ones, I could almost see a similarity. The task where similar and their challenges to communicate, function and find comfort was little difference then the small children except more awkward. The light in their eyes would seem distant often as if they were in a different place, an another dimension. I would equate the last stages as if they were beginning their journey down a new birth canal, and at times it look like they were really working hard to accomplish some trek.

 

It is assumed that when I die that my inner voice leaves my body, after all it will be cold and stiff, not functional and decaying . It is speculation that at our last breath we depart with our inner voice (soul), to a destination that has been a mystery since the first death. Most faith’s profess that our inner voice has a path, a preferred  more comfortable and wondrous destination. 

 

The assumption of when our inner voice arrives is even more of a mystery, and one that has an unsettling debate with todays culture. I do not know when I arrived in my body, I cannot declare if I was a thinking mind while swimming in my mothers womb, Did I arrive when my parents fluids united , did I arrive just after I was introduced to the world, was I present while my father was looking for a suitable place to live and raise me. I don’t know this and neither doesn’t anyone else. I don’t remember crying in the incubator nor do I remember much till as stated above. This has always concerned me and truly wish I knew. Not knowing when I arrived makes me to lean to the assumption that life could very well begin at inception and need to be treated as a life .This is an unpopular view and unacceptable by many and I certainly can understand the rational of many viewpoints, but till I know for just when the inner voice arrives I can’t accept the pro choice view. 

 

As a Catholic, my faith leads to believe that our souls are able to return to God, to be filled with Love and eternal happiness. My faith also expects me to follow the guidelines of the Church as laid out 2000 years ago by Christ and the Apostles, and parts of the Torah or Jewish Scriptures. Catholic believe that life begins at inception and if you are a true follower of the Catholic faith you should accept the dogma. Even without this dogma I still would question and ask for solid proof just when does our inner voice arrive. 

 

This essay is not meant to be judgmental nor will it address most concerns and justifications of  pro-choice.I did not write this to condemn but to offer a pro-life view or explanation. This essay is my inner voice  speaking and it finds a need to speak. 

 

I gasp for air.

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I gasp for air

with little hope,much despair

I gasp for air

 

My heart aches so

this pain and sorrow, much to bare

My heart aches so

 

I reach out to touch

They are gone,out of reach, they are not there

I reach out to touch

 

I strain to listen

to hear their voice,just on word I beg to hear

I strain to listen

 

I breath in to capture

just the scent of their being, the smell of their hair

I breath in to capture

 

My body quakes, it trembles 

inside it hurts, this is so unfair

my body quakes, it trembles 

 

I must grasp the truth

They are with God

I must grasp the truth

 

I gasp for air

with hope, for fresh air

I gasp for air 

 

Prayer Dare

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This ship, this vessel filled with misguided fools

 

This earth, Man’s boat full of holes

 

Many lacking the necessary tools

 

Others becoming more like digital moles 

 

Wrong is the Human soul

 

Hurting, condemning, ridiculing each other

 

Unable to find peace, that righteous lull 

 

Totally losing sight of our Mother 

 

This world where prayer is offensive 

 

Considered uncool, unjust, incorrect and wrong

 

Prayer sanctuary of Joy is the Holy defensive 

 

Sad so many don’t hear this Sacred Song 

 

Let us Pray, Let us Pray

 

That this vessel can weather the storm

 

That Love will fill our Day

 

And Happiness will be the norm 

Let us Pray, I care to dare 

Let us Pray

 

 

© Park 2013 

 

I Climb this Rock

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I Climb this Rock

 

Without regard to stature or Stock

 

With total reverence to the flock 

 

Each breath and spasm my hands will lock 

 

Around this massive uninviting rock

 

I Climb this Rock

 

It is my burden I bare 

 

 The Effort is not of whim or dare

 

My eyes are wide open, deep in cautious stare

 

Each painful step calls for utmost care

 

I Climb, I climb this Rock 

 

Despite the uncertainly and  upheaval

 

Filled with heartless acts which are Medieval

 

Among the harden hearts with the demeanor of a weasel 

 

I will Climb this Rock

 

Despite my body and soul continuing to be thrashed

 

The Critics tongues with ugly venom that constantly lashed 

 

Like a poison that irritates and leaves a rash

 

Without choice I will Climb this Rock

 

Hard and Cold like unbridle lust

 

It leaves a taste, metallic like ancient rust

 

Slip I can’t: A fall would be bust

 

My soul, my life would be all but worthless dust

 

Yet still I must climb this Rock

 

The Rock isn’t found in this world, this place

 

It has more than one name, often a distinguishable face

 

It’s a rock that is known by the Human Race

 

It must be navigated and done in ones own pace

 

I must climb this Rock

 

Not of Iron, or granite or Pyrargyrite

 

Nor of formulas, equations of finite 

 

For at this crest I will find a brilliant light

 

The truth will be disclosed, and the end of my night

 

When I finish this Climb of this Rock 

 

This Rock of Life I will Climb

 

This Rock of Life I will traverse

 

This Rock of Life will be mine

 

This Rock of Life the Universe 

 

© Park 2013