Listening for That Pin to Drop

Silence is coveted by many yet misunderstood by most. It has magic unrivaled and it can sooth as an evening snowfall. Yet when it's called upon to ride uncertainty, a resounding torture is what you'll have summonsed. There will be many answers lurking in the shadows here at the oasis of tranquility and chaos. Yet you may fear not for your safety, for it's merely hide and seek the answers play. You must however fear their deception. For its missteps here that will entice the demons, who also roam these wastelands of silence, disguised as questions.

Hi it's me, the narcissistic, overly flamboyant, bag of insecurities back from the dead.

Maybe you hadn't noticed but I've been on somewhat of a hiatus. It's nothing serious, I just was asked to take a little journey. I went on a tiny adventure that included some life altering, soul searching expeditions in a far away place. While there I was forced to search for answers to life's questions.

I must tell you that I am living proof of being careful what you wish for because clarity comes with a hefty price tag, let me tell ya.

What happened you ask? Where did I go? Well, I went to "Hell" I think or "Writer's Block", I'm not really sure. It was a little place tucked way back in the nether regions of a bigger place commonly known as "My Imagination". I'm now, for creative purposes, referring to this place as my "Silence".

I was forced to visit this place because I had lost my way. That's my literary way of saying I had lost my confidence. So I took a break. At first it wasn't by choice but after suffering through some miserable writing sessions, where I concluded I was either tapped out or having regular strokes, I decided it was time. So I went to a place that has not been kind in the past, I went to my thoughts. I went to my "Silence".

Now I'm sure everyone has their own version of "Silence" but I think it's safe to say that they all serve the same purpose. That is; to show us who or what we are becoming and to offer us choices in the form of pathways. It’s kind of like Monty Hall and Let's Make a Deal. Just be careful of the Bikini clad fat man sitting atop the Jackass behind door number two.

Obviously this is not the first time that I have visited my thoughts; I mean everyone hits the cranial eight-ball from time to time. Up until now though, I don't think I ever got it. I can't say I really get it now but I do believe I know why we go there. I believe it’s our job to make sure that we visit "Silence", form time to time, so as to not become complaisant. Chris Rock said it best; "If it ain't new, it's through"! Of course, he was referring to sex.

What's mine like, you ask? Well, if I had to describe it, I would say my "Silence" is more like Mordor than the Shire. There are hints of beauty and pleasant life but for the most part it's fiery and volcanic. It's choc full of flying demons, old ladies who crave young man-flesh, muscular men doing the electric slide, clowns, ventriloquists and of course... leprechauns. At the very least it's Middle Earth like.

My guess is that if I liked making decisions about life a little more and I worried about things a little less, my "Silence" would be more of a pleasant place to visit. Shoot, if I wasn't the enemy of my own thoughts, I might even be able to find more of those all illusive answers we so desperately seek when going there. Instead, I just keep bumping into those nomadic questions; pale creatures that don tattered cloaks and walk in dirty sandals; never pleasant, they are hunchbacked and require walking sticks. You know what else?...questions never look you in the eye either.

Damn, I just realized something, I worry too much! (There's a news flash) Oh my God my wife says that to me all the time! I guess it's true, I mean just look at my "Silence". It's like a traveling sideshow form the medieval times with a splash of the 80's. There can be no question as to why I went into a deep block.

Well what do you know; it looks like I'm writing a revelation piece. I guess I'd better change my shoes, put on the cardigan and find a different mask.

OK here goes: I get really nervous really easy. There, I said it! And in case you hadn't noticed, I lack confidence and I also worry too damn much! Oh my............. this is extremely liberating...

Hey, you know what else? I'm heavily into preventative maintenance! So much so that I'm thoroughly convinced most people are sadistic! Oooh Damn, I feel cleansed... Let me shout some more!

I exfoliate!...... (Is this guy for real?)  Wow, I could go all day!  I also resist change! Woo Hoo!

While we're at it, I can see through most people, sniff out a rat, tell you how it's going to end and I fear that most everyone has a personal agenda! So shoot me!

Wow, it's all coming to me! This latest visit to my "Silence" has been like hanging out in a fluorescent lit bathroom with a thousand mirrors. I've been shown, from all sides, that I am a horrifically insecure underachieving worry wart who over reacts. Ouch! All of this because of writer's block? And how about that mirror angle from behind?....yuck! Is my ass really that high up on my back?

Loading the gun now....... and........ BOOM!

Can it be true, has my over reacting, due to excessive worrying, made me a negative person, even though it was beyond my control?

I understand some folks, namely my wife, try to see to it that I'm not over stressing myself and believe me when I say that I don't want to over stress them either. I just can't help it when stuff pops into my head and my brain starts creating a nurturing environment fit for worrying; a penthouse suite if you will; a luxury getaway built for panic, worthy of anxiety's royalty.

Is it so unhealthy for me to have suffered from full on, heart palpitating, gut wrenching and thunderous flatulence producing nervousness? I always thought I was fine unless it got to the point of violent convulsions, mild seizures and uncontrollable vomiting. That I could understand being dangerous to my health.

OK hang on, you don't have to call the psych ward just yet. I don't want you to get me ALL wrong. I'm not one of those goofs who has their children wearing helmets during hopscotch or while playing Wii. I'm just a bit of a worry wart; a little bit of an uptight soldier of ADD/OCD.

Hmm.... (Long pause for effect)

OK So I suffer from prehallucinogenic jitters from time to time. So I've got the nervous stomach. So I just might worry a little more than is deemed acceptable by the United States Food and Drug Administration. So the thought of attending my twenty year high school reunion has me on the verge of violent dry heaves. There, are you happy?

Is there something that can be done to alleviate these occasional blips on the worry radar? I mean other than fighting through fire, brimstone and soulless vagabonds in an imaginary place of mystical sorcery. Do I really need to visit my "Silence" every time I need a pick-me-up or to feel safe? It's hard locating peace in a place where my self image suffers lacerations from mythical creatures that seem to enjoy their free stay at the Ritz Carlton Gary.

Maybe there's a handout at the elementary school or a leaflet at the local library that provides directional relief? How about an energy drink? I'm quite certain there is one of those dedicated to this disorder. On second thought, I'm not sold on those cockamamie modern day fairy tale potions anyway.

How about web sites? Na, forget it! With my luck I'll type in "Nervousness" and be taken directly to a pair of huge breasts that belong to "Nervousness", the West Indian sex-cam queen.

There is medication you say? I'll be honest, that scares the hell out of me. See I've always told myself that I would never need chemical intervention because I know who I am and I'm very comfortable with my self diagnosis. I've even told myself that all of this clarity, the fog I've been squinting through for the past three years, is me on the path to a cure.

Hey, I'm suddenly reminded of an old cliché that I've never heard until I just googled "famous clichés". It's by Plato himself so I'm sure it's worth reading. It says: "An unexamined life is not worth living." I like it. I'm going to adopt it as my inspirational motto.

You know what, forget all of the remedies, if Plato said it, it must be worth sticking to. I think I'll just see about booking the occasional visit to "Silence". It really wasn't that bad you know, and if I'm being totally honest, I felt strangely at home there.

Two is One

If the time was ever, the time is
Reaching out with desperate reserve
Grabbing at visions, a mirage, I'm tired
I want you to break me free of this grip to wish
Release me, for I need to know
How real it is, this wish to grip

You never hear when I call
Secure in mocking, stride for stride
Casting shadows on our path, you've got me all wrong
You need not fear me, I don't wish to pass
Allow me face to face, for I need but a glimpse
After all, I do have the right to see
What leading me looks like...........
On me

Breathe It In

Every so often a feeling comes along that I can't explain, I simply embrace it. To think it through is to ruin it, it just is. Thoughts flow and words seem unnecessary and for a few moments, I truly feel what it means to love.

It seems so simple, yet so many of us over think it. If only we could let go of all that restricts and just breathe.

Understanding, I don't know, as a whole it's a mystery and quite frankly, it can stay that way. I find that more appealing so I think I'm finally starting to get it. And every day I'm learning that clarity is with me, so I know at the very least, I'm headed in the right direction.

I truly love someone and it grips with an awareness that is pure and without question. So much so that I can't believe it was ever clouded by petty differences. I'm thankful that gave way to the innocence of attraction and a wealth of clarity that begs release.

I have looked at love through many eyes yet never my own, for I wasn't ready. But for some reason I now have been chosen and I simply say OK, no questions, no explanations necessary, I will just love.

Scratched, "The Surface"

I've noticed recently, especially in pictures, that when I smile I have crow's feet. I won't lie, I am not happy about this. Funny thing is, I didn't think I cared about getting older because I feel so young. It's just that, with the onset of the Devil's tracks, I fear an old family nemesis is stirring. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I fear for all of mankind the day I realize I'm not twenty one anymore.

Hi, my name is Gary and I'm a recovering insecurity laden Vanityaholic. I will continue to act as though I don't care about such petty things, and yes, I just might be lying.

Here is a news flash for you; like most who aspire to be recognized, entertain, or simply be different, I really do care what you think. Sometimes I'll even go so far as to deceive you; this in the hopes that my appearance will be everything that I think you would want it to be.

Does this mean I'll be sporting Jonas Brothers tight jeans or a Sean John skull cap anytime soon, no, I mean I have risen from the depths a little. Nevertheless, my attention can be diverted and I still cross over to the dark side from time to time. You see, deep down I'll always be the same guy who spends thirty minutes putting together a look for the party and then thirty more second guessing the finished product.

I have to tell you though, there has been a disturbance in the force lately and the clothing seems to have taken a back seat to the impostor within. Let me put it to you in a different way. I'm starting to think that the vanity, the very poison that I continue to try to hold in check, wants to attack at me from a different angle and that it might be time to unveil an upgraded defense strategy.

It used to be simple really, the occasional hair out of place or the jeans that didn't gather just right. Now it's blemishes, brown spots, bumps, boils, bruises, red spots, pores, black heads, hair loss, dryness, dangling triceps, rogue love handles and now crows feet?!?! What's a guy to do?.......

I would love to think that I'm confident enough to not be so shallow but I can't help but think of those ,better than me, that have fallen victim to the evil of which I speak. I fear my time may be at hand.

I fear this because I've gotten word that my defenses are weakening and I don't know how much longer I can keep the enemy at bay. I'd like to share something with you now. Here is the transcript of a letter I received just days ago from my very own war department. It confirms my fears and simply put, change is of the highest order. See if you agree:

Dearest Lord Goodman of Olay,

Most gracious sire; It is with the utmost humility and deepest regret that I am writing to you this day, the twenty-eighth day of March, year two thousand and ten of our lord. I am to inform you that our officers are no longer able to delay the growth of the rebellion, known locally, as "Wrinkles". I fear, if we do not act quickly, that the birth of an empire is eminent and evil shall rain down upon us.

It pains me to report, that in our once pure lands, peace and harmony have fallen victim to pressures baring no witness, and I fear for our resolve. Provisions are thin and moral is all but lost so time is of the essence.

For this I beseech you Sire; Bring down the declaration of war and again make steady our once proud defenses. We must restore balance to our kingdom for there is still purity in the lands, I have seen this so.

Wrinkles must not prevail!


Your most humble servant,
General Oil of Olay

You see, I have no choice. Listen, war does not scare me and there really is no alternative at this point but what does scare me is this, shock an awe. It's what I'm afraid I'm capable of if my vanity is again allowed to blossom. Hear me when I say that Hell hath no fury like a probationary metro sexual bearing the mark of the beast! You know what I mean?

Now to some this vanity revelation will come as a complete shock. Others may have noticed me wading in the shallows from time to time. Shoot, I've even swam with a few of you, and yet, that's not what concerns me.

What does concern me is this; the last chunk of the population I failed to mention, the ones that hide in the deep waters bearing only their eyes. They are the ones who will deceive at all cost, yet amazingly enough, will do whatever it takes to get noticed.

I fear I will one day be asked to rejoin these sad souls and their quest for colossal recognition and trust when I say that I will do everything in my power to keep this from happening. Honestly, I've been there and I want nothing to do with that life ever again, in fact, I fear them. I fear me!

If right about now you are wondering where all of these insecurities come from you're in luck because I'm going to tell you. If you were wondering why I'm not currently part of some psychological rehabilitation campaign, hold that thought.

See like most, I get my insecurities from my parents. I believe my mother is the queen bee of vanity and my father, well he is the wordsmith king of deception, both mere side dishes to the entree of low self esteem.

Now in the early years, the highly impressionable ones, I was introduced to my family's version of life's commandments. They were pretty straight forward and by the guidance of the two that created them, learning them would be simple. They are:

1.) Help others only when it benefits you and more times than not, others have ulterior motives when in need of said help.

2.) Compliments on appearance are the ultimate prize and to receive none is simply unacceptable, a failure.

3.) The bargain bin in a JC Penny outweighs the desperate plea, of a child, to get to a bathroom quickly. (This one I learned at eight years old and at the cost of a ride home in soiled pants and an explosion of humiliation made worse by the laughter from the front seat)

4.) Someone new to the group is a threat and usually a thief. Quite frankly they are the enemy, especially if they are good looking.

5.) Getting sick and producing a cough is the cowardly act of a moron and punishable by banishment from one's sleeping quarters.

6.) Never request a ride home after one's makeup and hair has been compromised for being seen in such a horrid condition is a fate worse than death. Walk, it is safer!

I'd like to give you an example of that last one because It still rings fresh with me after all these years. We'll have to go back to around the year 1986. This was a time of rambunctious innocence when fourteen year old males did nothing but hunger for a good party, a beer to sip'n'hate, and a chick to go with. (The occasional chapped lips due to make out sessions was highly coveted at that age) There was just one problem, no license to drive.

What I'm about to unveil to you is one of many phone conversations I had with my mother, my sole supplier of necessary transportation for dad was never home. Here it is in it's entirety. The names have not been changed to protect the innocent.

RING......RING......RING! (For effect)

Gary: Hey mom, can you come pick me up? I'm ready.

Mom: Awe shit, Gary! Nobody else's parents can do it?!?! I'm in for the night, damn it!!!

Gary: Nobody else is leaving, or, if they are then they're going in a totally different direction.

Mom: I don't have to get out of the car do I?!?! Awe damn it boy, my hair's a mess!!! Shit, can't you walk, where are you?!?!

Gary: I told you earlier I would need a ride home. Mom, nobody will see you, it's nighttime. I'm at such and suches house, too far to walk and it's like thirty five degrees and it's raining.

Mom: You sure I don't have to get out of the car?!?! Where does such and such live?!?! I'll bet I've never been there!!! You better hope nobody sees me!

Gary: It's over by so and so's, you've passed it a thousand times. Mom, nobody is going to see you!

Mom: I've never been there before, where is that?!?! Gary, I don't know where that is! Are you sure nobody else can get bring you home? I look a mess!!!

And here is the last bit after she had picked me up:

Gary: Thanks mom, sorry about that.

Mom: Awe shit, I know they can see me and I look terrible!!!

Gary: Nobody can see you and who cares if they do?

Mom: I care damn it, look at me!!!

Now that is just the tip of the iceberg but at the risk of putting the bus in reverse and running back over dear old mom, I'll quit there.

Dad, on the other hand, is a whole different ball game. With no continuity in his thought process and an habitual failure to ever really participate in family functions, we could never figure him out. Therefore an example would be lengthy and surly lost in translation. The only explanation that I could come up with, is that he's only really comfortable in three places; The bar, the basement (under a blanket) and at work.

I guess what I'm saying is that growing up in my house had it's ups and downs, as most of you can probably relate. One thing is for sure though, now that I'm in my late thirties, I get a much clearer understanding of who I am through introspection. When I look in the mirror, vanity just so happens to be the latest image staring back at me. Now I can either turn my head and cough or I can do what comes naturally these days and embrace the truth by acknowledging this latest reflection.

We should all take a page from the wicked queen's book and ask this question once in a while; Mirror Mirror on the wall? Only look past the surface, for the soul of a person is so much more beautiful than the shell and how shallow the shell is….. blah blah blah blah blah blah.

Reflection, being introspective, it's really just about having the guts to own up to who we are, don't you think?

I've written quite a bit about insecurities over the past eight months, I mean you've got to write what you know. Thinking back, Some were funny, some were serious and some were even funny serious. Then there were those that were funny strange yet funny and even some that were strange funny yet seriously strange. Once in a while you might have gotten the strange serious without the clever but never the serious without the funny and almost NEVER did you get the strange serious without the meaningful.

So in closing, crow's feet are just lines on the surface but like an iceberg, they can go pretty deep with some folks. In fact, all the way to the heart.

Should Have Made that Left Turn at Albuquoikee

This has been the longest I've gone without writing and I think I have finally figured out why. I think I've reached a crossroad.

I know I'm still very new to this putting thought to keystroke thing, naive you could say, but I have definitely stumbled onto a path of uncertainty. Are crossroads supposed to be this confusing? Is this normal? Umm......was that a tumbleweed? @$#%

Let me fill you in on the goings on here. I've got lots of ideas swirling around that are coming at me like swarms of angry bees and not the wimpy European kind either. Now I know things could always be a lot worse and the woe is me factor might be leaking in here a bit but I used to be able to monitor and control my brain barf. At least with some measurable amount of discipline that is. Now I'm struggling to contain it and I'm having a hard time putting it to word.

I don't know what you want to read! I don't know if you care! I don't know what I want to write! I don't know if I can write anymore! I don't know why I still watch Idol!

Lately my head is like a Billy Mays infomercial, energetic yet spastic. There are so many aimless thoughts, bits of advice, visions, explosions of insight, dream descriptions, theorems, algorithms, theories, nightmares, movie lines and unanswered questions just floating around. There is even one very special fantasy of my third grade teacher naked. Doesn't it figure, that's the clearest thought I have.

All of these things have been meandering around inside my head for the last six or eight weeks now. It's jaywalking madness! Not to mention these unpopped brainstorm bubbles that are now colliding with the many other demons that also try to claim my cerebral cavern as their own. Try refereeing that contest, OY!

It used to be so easy to come up with something that I thought would surely entertain, at least a few people. Now I'm not so sure and I'm constantly second guessing myself.

For some reason I've started to think that putting a more serious tone into what I'm writing is the way to go. I really don't know why though. I guess it's because I've changed so much in the past few years. I guess when you gain an ounce of clarity you kind of want to spill out a pound of it, you know? I'll compare it to a smoker who quits and then yells at everyone for doing it. I think I want to shout my learning's to those who need or want, to listen.

Then I say to myself "Who the hell am I to spread life's lessons or messages?" For me, being goofy and posturing for a laugh is what I enjoy so why mess with that. This takes me right back to confusion.

I did have one brief moment the other day when clarity seemed to be peeking through the crowd of misfits and I thought.... Maybe it's a well deserved brain break.

Could that be it? Is the crossroad asking me to make a right turn down brain break alley? Could my brain be asking me to allow it to go through a purge cleansing? Maybe that is it. I have been doing a lot of writing these past eight months so I guess a break is OK, right?

I won't lie though, I've actually been very depressed at how hard it's been to assemble my thoughts lately. Although I will say this, it's not for the lack of them I can assure you. No kidding, I've got ideas coming in from everywhere and more than ever. They're even coming in over tweets or twits. Funny thing is I don't even twoot. It's just, for some reason, I'm unable to harness my ideas now.

Now on the other hand, what if I'm way off here. What if I'm being asked to make a left turn? OK, and what if a left turn puts me onto some lonely street coincidentally named Parrish way?!?!

Oh my God am I dying?!?! What if all of this uncertainty is something physical! Do I have some debilitating disease and I'm to write no more? What if it's cancer?!?! Can you get cancer of the imagination? That would be a horrible cancer to have! Not that they are not all horrible but can you imagine how you would have to administer treatment to your mentality?

Oh my God I can hear the headlines now; It was a long road and a battle that shall stand as one for the ages but he was unable to defeat the illness and Gary Goodman has succumb to faux cancer's evil grasp. If he could have just found a way to set aside the A.D.D. long enough to focus his thoughts solely on faux chemo. This of course being the only way to treat and defeat Cancer of the imagination, which we now clinically refer to as Cognisance Cancer.

Oy, I think I feel dizzy! OK, deep breath... maybe I'm going about this the wrong way. Instead of draping myself in the negativity, maybe I should call on the positivity here. Yep, I think that's a good idea. Here goes....

How about this, maybe my blip on the radar is not a crossroad at all. Maybe, just maybe, the past eight months I've been tickling a sleeping madman. Maybe it's my brain waking up. Maybe it's opening up like an old chest in the attic. Hmm, an old chest that when opened, throws up a billowy cloud of dust. A small, yet intense, particle storm that issues a warning and tastes of stale air. You know, the cloud of crap you've got to squint through in the hopes of getting a peek at the possible treasure that may lay waiting inside.

Yeah but what if I don't like what's waiting for me? What if it's like Geraldo Rivera opening up Al Capone's vault and after all of the build up there is nothing? What if, in my chest, they find nothing but mud and some years later some old hag tosses my stolen creativity off the stern of a ship along with some jewels. Did you ever think of that?!?! My creativity in question and me along with it, sinking into the abyss known as literary ineptitude. Please say it isn't so!

OK, I know I'm not ending world hunger here, I'm simply allowing myself to vent through a keyboard but....... If it ain't no fun then don't do it. Yeah but I love doing it and I'm having mucho fun so I'm going to get to the bottom of this and get back with you all soon, I hope.

In closing, call this what you will; a crossroad, test, mental block, small stroke, cough due to cold, deep sea excursion, self indulgent fluff or awakening, whatever, it's definitely perplexing.

Clarity Within Lie My Three Sins

There the strength to guide and the vision to lead
A crack under strain yields relent
Turn away lust and rise to the light
In a raging calm you call, stand with me
Familiar the walls that cloak with comfort
There the battle is hidden from all to see
Carry the protected and hold them up high
Under their lead be the lead
To be carried not carry and to be held not to hold
There in the shadow lies sin number one


The quiet of snowfall
The turbulent winds
The dancing rain
The bellowing thunder
The calls from the dark
Mother nature's choir can pierce the deaf ear
Yet it can not crest the cold shoulder
To render one mute is sin number two


Get lost in the silence, let it resound
Bow to the pain and allow it to tire
Acknowledge the crowds, help one to find you
Embrace the grief to usher it's pass
Speak to the anger, for the rage it lies
For it's within these five sin three surely hides

Here's to the Dawning of the Age

I, Gary, have just recently had the weight of the world removed from my shoulders. Not to mention the many voices that instantaneously fell silent. In fact, while I'm writing this, I'm beginning to feel a little giddy and I can hardly contain myself. I think I'm actually feeling the need to bellow a barbaric yawp! Are you ready?

YA.... I now know why I am the way I am. I know now why my thoughts sometimes haunt me, and others. I know why I can't seem to get out of my own way, and I can honestly say I now know why I'm bald. I'm an Aquarian! ....WP

I feel better now so please allow me to explain. Just the other day a dear friend sent me the most wonderful gift. It was a site link. This was no ordinary link though. If I told you that this beautiful cyber pathway took me to a magical place, would you believe me? Well it did. It was the bridge that joined together the "desperate", who is played by yours truly, and the "complete definition of the desperate”, as played by a web page.

I'm telling you I feel like I was given a golden ticket with this link; a ticket that grants me passage aboard total consciousness. Wow, could it really be? Would I finally get to yell bon voyage to the many Gary’s who, up until this point, have influenced most of my critical decision making? Would I finally be allowed to shake off the many impostors who have gregariously kept me hostage while tagging along, on my ride nonetheless? With this new found clarity, I think yes. I now know that it's OK to be just plain old me. I have been stamped, approved and accredited.

Oh I'm sorry, would you like to know the web page this amazing link points to? Then take my hand and let’s ride the yellow brick cyber road to a page that fully describes something with such detail, that it drips of understanding. It is a page so full of light that it radiates the warmth of comprehension. The page to which I'm referring is: http://www.gotohoroscope.com/aquarius-meanings.html.

The site, to which this page belongs, fully explains the characteristics and traits of the zodiac signs. I'm Aquarius so it clarifies, for me, what it means to have been born on January 22nd 1972. This is a date that, up until just recently, had very little meaning.

He got all of this clarity from a zodiac sign description, you ask? Believe me I'm totally with you in your skepticism. I mean who would have guessed that a small group of stars, pieced together by imaginary lines, and then cloaked with history, would have been holding the key all along; certainly not me.

Here I'd been thinking that the trials and tribulations of day to day life and the decisions we make there in, followed closely by the interpretations made from such actions, would've been the guiding light to salvation. What a fool I was, we are.

I have to tell you, it is extremely eerie and somewhat liberating to read a description that is so spot on me, it's as if I wrote it.

I guess the main reason for me writing all of this, aside from wanting to share the dead on description, is the strange feeling that this web page has somehow playfully added punctuation to the last couple of years of my life. Now if I may, I would like to go back a little ways to shed some light on just that.

Sometime in my early teens I started questioning my purpose in this world. I've never been much into religion, faith and certainly not into celestial mumbo jumbo of any kind, until now at least. What I have always felt though, is that I had a true calling in life or a niche, so to speak. I've always felt that I had something major to contribute to this world.

Now I have said it before and I'll say it again, in the great words of the late Ted Night, "Well the world needs ditch diggers too". I fully understand that, I do. It's just that deep down inside, even in my early teens, I had this feeling in my gut, a yearning if you will. I felt I needed to locate my true self. I knew even then that I had something to say to the world, or at least that's what my stomach led me to believe. Actually, the way I ate, it could have been indigestion. On the other hand, maybe it was insecurities, even back then. Lord knows I'm full of them still. Whatever the case may be, there was a strong sense of uncertainty that lived inside me. Little did I know that it would govern my every move for years to come?

I can remember, about the time I was thirteen, when I starting making a regular wish. I would make this wish every chance I got. Be it birthday cakes, eyelashes, the breastbone of many birds, shooting stars, three legged women, green clovers, blue diamonds or even spotting an albino basset hound, whatever, my wish was always the same. You name it and I wished on it. Now don't laugh but in perfect OCD fashion, I kept with that same wish for many years. I still use a variation of it today as a matter of fact, minus the three legged women of course.

Now I know I'm not supposed to let anyone ever know of this but my wish was: Please let me find my way in life, keep those in my family free from misfortune and make me wealthy someday. I know it's a triple shot but hey, you got to give a guy points for originality, right?

I truly believe though, that sticking with my wish and staying the course all these years, it has paid off. I have been chipping away at the uncertainty that lives in me and little by little I have been finding my way over the past twenty five years.

I know this to be true because about two years ago I had what I now proudly refer to as my "Moment"; the moment when many worlds collided. Those being, the persistence of a thirteen year old boy, the desperate pleas of a father of two and all that lay in between. (The full description of the moment is for another time so just bare with me). For the first time in my life things were starting to clear up. I got a glimpse of what my purpose was and I liked it.

What I was to understand was that the answers I sought would come in steps, stages if you will. Makes sense really, imagine if clarity came all at once, overwhelmed is what we'd be. Anyway, step one screamed out the loudest and brought about a one-eighty in my thought process. It was simple. I am to love and respect my wife unconditionally. There was to be no flexibility with this one, I knew that. I was to shelve my selfishness forever and show this woman, my soul mate, exactly what she means to me, without reservations and the petty games.

With that in mind, in came the fear that if I somehow didn't get it together, I could loose this woman forever. I suddenly knew, with this as my focus, all else would fall into place. Namely step two, which is for me to be the father that my two beautiful children so deserve.

My purpose in life was suddenly simple. To embrace those two privileges of mine and to make sure that I stay the course. In doing so I am pretty sure everything else in my life would just fall into place. Imagine, soon I can start to prepare for what I am going to be when I grow up.

Well what do you know; my wish has come true, two thirds of it at least. I'm still praying for the third installment; that being keeping my family free from misfortune.

Now who would have thought that one wish, made over and over again, would someday come to fruition. I am finding my way. I know that now. I know this because I am wealthy. I just always figured that wealth meant money.

It's pretty amazing what happens when you let your heart and your brain talk to one another. Suddenly I'm headed for a place I used to wish for and could once only dream about. I'm headed for peace of mind with a dangerous amount of clarity to boot. My life is no longer a run on sentence, for I have punctuation and a golden ticket to prove it.