The Lyft Driver’s last words to me on this day: But that’s Life. Life is Messy. You have to figure it out as you go.
We’d a brief conversation on how there were people who milked the system and the system being at fault. His view was that affordable housing serves people who didn’t want to work. My view acknowledged that but added more to the picture in that the system is also failing people and perpetuating itself through the cycle of neglect and poverty.
Which brings the question to mind: How can one know there is more if one has never been exposed to more?
I’m 36. At times that has been held against me it seems. In other instances, it feels like I’m praised for thinking the way I do for as young as I am. I see two lines of thought and it’s a bit like the housing picture, one limiting, the other a bit broader.
“Bradah, you stay at the front of the line, making your way through the jungle with just one bolo knife. It’s lonely Brah!” The Reader’s words follow that thought experiment.
And I’m rewound to a few months prior was I was told my Path is that of the Sage. I feel a conflict that I can never put in words and I feel a frustration because so many people I have encountered have labeled within a limited analysis yet there are only small bits of moments where I meet people, who do in fact, get It, whatever It is, that I’m about.
“It’s like making your way up a mountain. You’ve been down the roads others are on and you can see the boulder just ahead that they can’t because you are where you are now.” An Old Gent told me as I was once the Reader. I wish you well Gerd, wherever you are, in the Flesh, or Spirit, I cannot know, but I remember how alive you were despite having lived so much.
Life really is messy.
All I can do is submit and make do with what comes. The roles I’ve played in the lives of others are fine, I own them, I give thanks for the lessons. I’m just ready to be me and be loved for that without compromise. What I mean there is not that I do not ever plan to compromise. Compromise and effective communication are essential. Rather, I want people to love me for who I am because that is what they should want for themselves.
Respect is earned it is said. Perhaps let’s go deeper and see that Honor is fleeting if not respected so that is where the return makes the most sense.
I don’t know.
I’m putting the pieces together. I’m only 36, too old, a failure, yet still young, with time.
I just know that my Heart sees far more than it has at times been given credit and I’m tired of falling on deaf ears when It speaks through me. So maybe I’m the one who has to start listening to It.
Start there and let that lead.
“Isn’t it time Bradah, that instead of just loving others, you got loved, too? You one good Bradah, you deserve that you know. That no mean you bad, the ones when come before bad, all the chords connected to you wasn’t bad. It just means that it was all aligning you so that you recognize that Love, in the way that will make you feel full, is out there.” More words from the Reader come to mind as I wind this down.
And I guess, where I stand, there really is no harm in believing It.
Believing in all of these other lines of thought has been like wearing styles that were en vogue for a season, or no longer fit. I’m ready for a new look. Why the fuck not?