(im)Possibilities

Looking up, I realized that the sky was impossibly blue, which as a phrase, is an utter and bold-faced lie. I mean if it were an impossibility, then my eyes would’ve never been caressed by the hue that they were in the first. Turns out, the blue of the sky was quite possible after all, despite any negative terminology I used to describe it.

This of course, could call into question a couple of things. First off, the idea of just what’s possible. Besides men giving birth – or my ever understanding the lure of shows like “Jersey Shore” – I see damned little on the human level that is impossible, and yet we’ve not accomplished quite a bit due to the concept’s existence. Could it be that everything is possible, and we only throw the little “im” bit in at the beginning to ensure that we never have to make it so? I’m none to sure. And neither are you or anyone else. Because in a world of possibilities, we find ourselves constantly strapped down with phrases like “it just isn’t done that way,” “it’s never been done before,” “I can’t see why it would work,” and of course, “it’s impossible.”

Not that I’ve all the experience required to make this next statement, but I’ve never really observed anyone put forth the effort required on anything (besides my ever understanding the lure of shows like “Jersey Shore”) to actually validate the impossibility of something. Even in my own life, when I found myself sitting at the airport – weeping over the fact that stupid weather and union pussy regulations were keeping me from spending time with friends I haven’t seen in something like a hundred years – getting there wasn’t actually impossible, I just deemed it to be so after looking at the logistics of the thing. “Impossible,” I’m thinking is a snow job we allow ourselves to get suckered into, every time we feel we’re too weak, unworthy of, or just don’t give a damn about a particular possibility. We don’t care enough – or feel as if we can – make the world better, so we say that any effort to do so would be “impossible.”

Which then leads me to my second “thing,” the power of words. The idea that by simply saying something, it must be true. This is most prevelent in politics and religion of course (and yes you atheists, I talking about you as well), but it also washes across our daily lives. I’m constantly blown away that simple words have such power. It’s sort of like the power of money, in that something of no worth is given high esteem. Of course, unlike money, words can have worth, if spoken from the heart. But so often they’re not.

I’ve a friend who calls me both a music and a word whore. Right on both counts, although I feel better about my musical whoredom. You see, lyrics notwithstanding, with music all we can do is build. By its very nature, music uplifts, creates, caresses and provides us with more at the end than we had at the beginning. Words do very much the same, but they can also be used to the opposite affect as well. Words can destroy. Words can abuse. Words can be twisted so that they spread hate, all while appearing to be spreading love. Words can – and do – tear us apart from each other, build up barriers between classes, and provide those gifted in intellect – but not soul – with endless ammunition with which to destroy their opponents. In short, words are dangerous. But then again, anything we hold power over is.  The difference between a person yielding a hammer and another yielding a pen however is that while the one with the hammer can only clobber one opponent at a time, the one with the pen can literally wipe out an entire race with just one little stroke.

So, when one who is gifted with words says that something is impossible, most-to all of us will be inclined to believe them, without ever first giving it a go ourselves to see if they’re correct in their assessment. Again, the world suffers, simply because someone somewhere decided that the logistics of the matter were just too much effort to actually make the idea a reality.

As for me, I’m tired of “impossible,” whether it be the color of the sky, or something loftier. I’m tired of being told that this, that and the other thing cannot be done, because it simply isn’t done in that fashion. I’m no Punk Rock Warlord, but I agree with Joe Strummer that I am stuck in my mouse trail – and maybe even you in yours – and it will only be when we crawl out of our impossible little ruts, that the Possible will be realized.

Sorry Mr. Como, but while it was a close call, in the final analysis the boys from Carter USM beat out your “It’s Impossible.”

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Can big girls be super models?

Sure.

Why not? It’s important to remember that beauty comes not only from within, but from without as well.

And fearful little men – the kind that never raise a fist – may also be willing to throw a punch from time to time, should the cause be just.

Gay kids may very well have a crush on someone of the opposite sex, and straight kids may experience the same with a member of their own.

Packs-a-day smokers may eventually see the light, and quit before Big Daddy Cancer wraps his fist tightly around their lungs. And teetotalers – the kind that are much better at preaching than they are at practicing – might stop wagging their fingers just long enough, to instead hold out a hand to help.

The lion and the lamb may never lay side by side on this mortal coil, but that shouldn’t stop the Christian and the atheist from doing so.

The rich person might someday be more concerned with the content of their character, than they are the cut of their cloth. While the poor person might, on that very same someday, stop using their poverty simply as an excuse to not achieve.

The one who suffers from anxiety may very well look deep into the mirror, and come to realize that they actually ARE exactly as beautiful as people say that they are. And the jaded soul? Well they could decide to melt – even if it’s just enough – to allow for and enjoy that long offered and sought-after hug.

You see, this world is full of untapped possibilities. They dot the sky like so many stars, washing across our existence like rainbows of opportunities. Anything can happen, and it bears enough weight as to be said again, anything can happen. All that’s required is that we first remove our goggles of ignorance and discard our unneeded, yet overly used, fear of power. True power. The power to grow, instead of stagnate. The power to be better, instead of just OK. The power to be real, instead of realistic. The power to love freely, instead of hate selfishly.

All that’s needed is that we stop placing ourselves first.

I am in no way better than any other. Twice a week I write weakly of love and family, of observations and desires. I write of flight and imprisonment, of people that never lived, and people that never should.  But for all my writing and wistfulness, I have yet to actually felt the sky beneath my wings. I have yet to conquer my fear of me and become what is my birthright as a child of God. Hell, I am only just now starting the process of tearing those damned goggles from my apathetic eyes, feeling them squint and squirm as they’re exposed to the new and burning Light.

This process began two years ago when I laid down the last cancer stick to ever touch my lips, followed shortly thereafter by my enrollment in college. Finally. And after forty two years, today I will be receiving what most of you earned when you were twenty. After forty two years, I will receive my Associates Degree. Seven semesters down, with a 4.0 for each and every one. It scares me to no end what that means. How it frees me to actually go after success. How it precludes me from ever using again my well-worn excuse of being stupid. Of being unworthy. It scares me, but that fear will not stop me. Not this time. Not ever again. Listen, because I don’t say this very often: my name is Troy, and today I did something that is forty two years overdue. Today I impressed the hell out of me. Today I finally realized that mom was right. I am “better than that.” Today, I’m gonna walk off that fucking stage with my head held high, and I’m gonna start to live.

I’m gonna finally take flight.

Is it stupid and naive to think this way? Most likely. But I don’t care. I’m gonna give it a try anyway. Because sometimes even packs-a-day smokers eventually see the light. I would ask you to join me if you will. After all, in the final analysis, we really are all that we have, and what we have is exactly enough. And the possibilities? Well my friends, they are simply endless…

~ Love ~

Neither the Prince nor Old Lady Shade

OK, here’s what I said. I said “I love these pics – as I love looking at the treetops as well. For me, they always have been the place where the earth touches the sky. The place where birds perch, mocking those of us who only wish we could fly.

And here’s what she said in response. She said “Hey t, I trust that “Writer’s Block,” will break free any minute now. Thanks for stopping and for the comment. Onward and Upward. :)

And would you believe, she was right!

As I drove home, I stopped staring at bumper stickers, and looked upwards instead to the spiny dead trees, softly scratching at the surface of the sky. Tickling it’s soft underside until the firmament almost giggled itself into a warmer shade of blue. Now don’t get me wrong, I also kept my eye on the road (you can’t say I haven’t learned anything from Jesus). But whereas a normal day would have found me ruminating about any number of things earthern-bound, I found my mind focused instead on the tree tops, stiffly swaying this way and that. I focused on them, and on how blessed they are to be able to “touch” the heavens as they do.

photo taken by Prasanna Gururajan

“But t, trees are hardly the tallest things we have, and barely do they touch the sky at all, by comparison.” True, but of all the monoliths upward bound, the trees are the bees knees – The wha..? – OK, I have no idea what I meant by that just now, but I felt driven to write it. It just seemed so right. Heck, I’m even gonna go back and read it again – hold on for a second – OK, I’m back. Digressions aside, instead of writing what I wrote, what I was actually going to make mention of was this: yes, the buildings climb higher than the trees. But these are of man, and as such, inherently corrupt. They do more to pierce the sky than tickle it. They thrust upward in function alone, invading and taking over, instead of peacibly coexisting. In short, they are rude and oversized phallic symbols, trying veinly to impregnate the sky with Man’s pride. Mountains too, reach much higher than the trees. But they reach so high as to no longer be visible to one so small as myself. In fact, in many cases they reach heights as to pass through the sky altogether, thus ruining the illusion in the process. So, of all the monoliths, I lean towards the trees when sky-dreaming, simply because they are the least inclined to act like monoliths in the first. Never mind the fact that lying on a soft blanket of grass, while sky gazing under a tree, is far more comfortable than laying on the sidewalk outside your local skyscraper and doing the same.

Within the trees you can find the animal that I am most jealous of, and for the purpose of today’s post, that animal is the bird. If I were feeling particularly base right now, I would insert a joke here implying that my jealousy revolved around the birds ability to publicly defecate anywhere, and without breaking stride. But seeing as I’m not feeling particularly base right now, I will refrain from making mention of any such thing. Instead, I will simply let you know that it’s not so much the bird I’m jealous of, as it is his power of flight. Flight. Can you imagine it? Flight without devices, or jets, or gizmos of any kind being required. Flight whenever desired, and for as long as as well. Flight, by simply spreading your wings and setting sail. Now, that’s for me Jack! I know that in order to have this power, I would also require hollow bones, a development that wouldn’t necessarily be to my advantage at the next bar fight. But let’s be honest, I can’t imagine I’m going to encounter any of those any time soon, so I’m willing to make the trade. Of course if C were here right now, she would also make mention of the fact that with hollow bones, my blogging days would be over as well, seeing as I’m a very aggressive hunter-pecker. My poor keyboard simply weeps every time I sit before it. Crying over the bruises that it will have to endure, as a result of the one thousand plus words I’m getting ready to inflict upon the blogosphere for that day. One brutally punched key at a time. Of course, if I could fly, I’m none to sure that my state of bloglessness would bother me too much. I’m of the belief I’d take flight over type to cure what ails me, open air over written word to set myself free. As I’m pretty sure the percentage regarding incidents of accidental bug consumption is about the same for either task, I’m thinking the power of flight would be a clear winner. Seeing as it’s a theory I’ll never be able to test, I fear you’re simply going to have to resolve yourselves to being stuck with me. But don’t feel too bad, at least you’re not my poor keyboard.

So, I am a grounded human who can not fly. One who is more rooted than the tree, simply by having the knowledge of my roots, the awareness of my chains. But unlike the trees, and the birds that rest upon them, I can dream. I can dream of tickling the sky while I fly across it. I can envision the world beneath me, and I can enjoy my vision. The tree may very well touch the sky. But it never knows that it does. And the bird may very well drop a bomb on the car of the biggest, richest Pisser ever, but it feels no righteous satisfaction in it’s action. Oh no, wait. That was going to be my “feeling particularly base” response. What I meant to say was this: the bird can simply take wing whenever it wants, but instead it is locked into so doing only when instinct mandates it. Of the three of us, it is only I who am truly free. Of the three, it is only I who will ever be able to suffer writers block, and be glad of the experience. I am neither the flying Prince nor the sky-tickling Old Lady Shade. I am rather, and possibly more importantly, the little child who can one day rise higher than them both.