The Reason I Write

I almost always wear a hat because I am bald. 

This is a reality and a metaphor. 

Why do we sometimes try to hide who we truly are? I have always known I am a writer. However, until recently, very few people knew this. I’ve always hidden this important fact about myself. 

I write to express myself. To let my true personality shine through. To show who I truly am. I sometimes feel this is the only way people will know the real me. 

Why do you write?



Part Two: Live the Life You Were Meant to Live

As I mentioned in the previous post, it is important to gain as much joy and knowledge from every situation as possible. The more we can do this, the more fulfilling our lives become. By doing this, you can become content in any situation.

However, I do not believe we are meant to live merely a contented lifestyle. I believe we are meant to live an extraordinary one.

So the goal moves beyond finding contentment. We must live our dreams.

Recently, my wife and I have taken a long, hard look at our lives. We have decided that, even though we have a good life, it is not exactly the way we want to live.

So why not enjoy the life we are living but also tweak it to make it the extraordinary life we always dreamed of?

We are now in the process of planning the next stage of our lives. A stage that will be more aligned with our dreams. In our case, it will take a lot of time and planning, but the result will be well worth it. And I believe we will learn a lot about ourselves in the process.

I encourage anyone who is not completely and utterly exultant about their lives, to dig deep within themselves to find out why. Once you have answered that question, you can begin changing your circumstances and align them with your dreams. And YES, you DO have the power to do that.

Make a decision to go after whatever it is that makes you complete and do not let anyone or anything stand in your way.

I believe you will find that the journey will be just as rewarding as the destination.

Sometimes we have to make big changes to begin to live the lives we were meant to live. Often, we have to change our surroundings, our jobs, and our circumstances; but it all starts with a change of attitude. Once you have he correct mindset, the rest will more easily fall in place.

Believe you can make the best life possible for yourself. That is the first step. Believe it, then go get it!!

Live The Life You Were Meant To Live

We have all heard this:
“Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.”
So cliche, so old, so overused, and yet so true.
I believe it is important to pull inspiration and fulfillment from every possible situation. Even when things seem dismally bleak, we can search deep within ourselves to learn and grow.
Sometimes it’s very easy to gain inspiration and joy from a situation or event. A magnificent fireworks display, a beautiful sunset on the beach, or the birth of a child. These are the moments that remind us to live the life we are supposed to live, and to discover those moments in everything, so they become our life.
I remember going to the lake often with my family as a kid. Most of the time, the weather was pleasant. It was easy to have a good time swimming and enjoying the sunshine. However, there was one time it rained, forcing us to take cover. I can still remember standing under a pavilion by the swimming area with a towel around my shoulders. I was watching the dark clouds roll in. The sound of the pattering of rain on he roof, the distant peals of thunder, and the familiar smell of the ionized air, took me to a different place. It was relaxing and surreal. A whole different experience to a familiar occurrence. To this day, when everyone else is grumbling about a summer rain shower, I welcome it.
The death of my father was a terrible event in my life. He was one of the extremely few people that are on a higher level of endearment to me. He died at an early age; which isn’t fair. However, through all of that pain and sadness, I realized this: Death is a release. I won’t pretend to know for sure what happens to our soul when we die, but I know it lives on, somewhere. And that place is much better than the pain of suffering through the unrelenting, unmerciful, agonizing destruction in the wake of Melanoma skin cancer. He isn’t suffering anymore. So, I find a sense of peace.
Not all moments are ideal. However, we can often gain insight and knowledge from the worst of them. We can find peace in dismal situations. We can can learn and become better people.
So keep your head up. Seek those moments that take your breath away. Search them out and grab them, hold on tight, and squeeze every ounce of joy from their overflowing fountains. And search for knowledge and inspiration from those moments that tug on your patience and contentment.
After all, we have one life to live. And sometimes it’s easy to fall into despair during trying times. But if we learn to live, to truly live like we are meant to, to extract all the inspiration and understanding from every situation, the road of life becomes clearer and more navigable; and we can then, more thoroughly enjoy those moments that take our breath away.

Two More Shots


Linda Merriweather began walking her dog, Brutus, at precisely the same time David Wrinkle began drinking in a bar four blocks away. She was still not used to walking alone. She fumed as she thought about her husband, or, soon-to-be ex-husband, Steve. They used to walk Brutus together, he had insisted on it. She thought it was because he worried about her, because he wanted to make sure she was safe. But, if that were true, why would he leave her for some cheap skank he met on a business trip to St. Louis?

David took another shot and asked the bartender for still another. He pulled a small notebook from his back pocket and a pen from his shirt and laid them on the bar top. He closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath before downing more whiskey. “Keep ’em coming, please.” He told the man behind the bar. Then, he began writing.

Linda passed the buildings without noticing them. She was still thinking of Steve. How could he have done this to her? After twenty-two years of marriage? How could he just throw it all away like it was nothing? But the fact was, he did just throw it away; which is exactly why Linda’s sadness turned to anger.

David wrote for several minutes without stopping. He was getting drunk and he knew it; and so did the bartender. “I think you’ve had enough, pal.” The bartender said.
“Just two more shots.”
“No sir. I’m cuttin’ you off. Pay up, and go home.”
David shrugged as he tore the page he had been writing on from the notebook and put it in his shirt pocket. He paid his bill as he stood up, noticing for the first time exactly how drunk he had become. Then, he staggered across the room and out the door.

Linda was just thinking about turning around and heading home when Brutus began barking toward a dark, back alleyway. “What is it, boy?” She wasn’t used to him behaving like this. He was normally a calm, friendly dog; and normally she wouldn’t have gone down a dark alley for any reason; but on this day, she did.

Linda found David lying face up about halfway down the paved corridor. She tried to rouse him, but it didn’t work. She could see he was breathing, which gave her some relief. Then, she noticed the paper sticking out of his shirt pocket. “Maybe this will tell me who you are.” She mumbled to herself. She opened the paper and began reading.

Dear Susan,
I don’t know how to tell you this. I feel terrible so I’m just going to come out and say it. I had an affair. I don’t know how it happened and it didn’t mean anything. The truth is I love you and I can’t live with myself for this. My intention tonight was to end it all and take my own life because I can’t face the grief that this will cause. But I’ve decided to ask forgiveness first. To see if we can work through this. If you don’t want to, I understand and you will never hear from me again.

The note stopped there. Linda looked down at David once again. That’s when she noticed the handle of a .22 caliber pistol sticking out of his front pants pocket. She looked around. It appeared the alley was deserted. She reached in her purse and pulled out a handkerchief. She slowly removed the gun from his pocket.

Brutus jumped and whimpered as the sound of the shot echoed off the buildings. “That one was for Susan.” She said, “…and this one is for Steve!”