Do Not Go Gentle

I was told that I was "Lazy".  That I wasn't capable of anything more than the basic place I held.  A man without any focus or distinction.

I was told that I wasn't good enough.  That my kids would fail, like I have.

Real words that were spoken to me.

They are lies.


I will not accept the lies of those who can't clearly see.  Nor should you.

I will not be made to listen when the voices speaking are filled with bile.  And you too should grow deaf to them.

I was told I'd never be more than the past that haunted me.  But I already am.  And you should shed your own demons and live.

We all have stuff.  Hurts.  Pain.  Disconnects.  Crazy thoughts that some see as a burden, but we know are part of who we are.

Don't bury the unique, beautiful creature that is inside you.  Embrace what engine makes you move and GO!!  Go fast and hard toward the light that beckons you from inside.  

When nothing else makes sense, listen to the voice inside that truly knows you.  The little place that holds the essence of your spirit.  Let that be your guide, not a man, a program, a self-help guide.  In 47 years I've found that fad diets don't work, everyone has their "best intentions" laid out for you, you can 'trust' our elected officials, and there is no quick way to make a buck.  So, why do we continue to look to the world for the answers that resonate inside like a GREAT BIG F*C%ing GONG if we just listen??

I came to Oregon to be close to my son.  Yet I've left two children in Georgia.  It tears me up, yet I know they have to find their path just like I am here.  But that's a blog for another day.

I came here with purpose, and a lot of fear.  I had no job, no place to call my own.  Nothing but everything I own on the back of my truck and in a 6x12 trailer.  And I wanted most of the trip to TOTALLY, HOPELESSLY Fail.  Truth.  I came here hoping that everything would cave and I could run back to everything that I had in Georgia.  And there are lingering vestiges of this.  

But if you know me a little, the me now that isn't quite the coward from just a few years ago, then you know one thing.  I don't half ass life.  Not anymore.  I run headfirst, cannonball in the pool, leaping off the deep end into a maelstrom!  

I came here with nothing.  And tomorrow morning I will wake and go to a job that I found within days of being here.  I will wake in the place I was led to call 'home'.  I have seen my little man more in the last two weeks than I have in any period over the last two years.  And I'm NOT DONE YET!  Look, I'm my own biggest Roger Ebert, and I still have a lot of growing to do.  But I am not backing down.

I will not go quietly.  I will not fall prey to my own past.  I will stand.  I will walk.  Hell, I'll even run.  But I will GO WITH A BIG NOISE!!  Hastening to the end.  Hoping to suck the marrow out of each and every day.

And you should find your own passion.  Your herculean adventure.  Your mountain.  Your Moby Dick.

And not go gentle...

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Dylan Thomas