Thursday, January 26, 2017

Reconciliation

Rec-on-cile 1. To cause to be friendly or harmonious again 2. Adjust, settle (~ differences) 3. To bring to submission or acceptance syn conform, accommodate, harmonize, coordinate

Over the past several weeks, I have run into several people asking me when I would start writing again. Soon, I would keep telling them and myself, but I knew within that I was still tired and had a number of things to reconcile before I started writing again. Was it all worthy of a share that would put eyes on my thoughts and opinions during a difficult period, or would whatever I would post for the world to read simply be a bunch of jumbled-up words – or a hot mess?

Because I am a relatively infrequent blogger if you call one post per week work, I simply put down the blue ballpoint pen and QWERTY keyboard for a while, rediscovered my family, and reconciled my quest for nirvana.

Sounds easy? Trust me, it was not easy – in the words of Marsellus Wallace, I was pretty fucking far from okay. I could blame it on a lot of things; ultimately I had to look at the man in the mirror behind the wide beard and black-rimmed glasses to realize I wasn’t the man I was supposed to be. Projecting a nice outward appearance and happy public face when my private life suffered with turmoil mainly from my own hand and bad decisions that I will not go into at this time reeked of hypocrisy. How could I be great in a world which readily is accepting of being merely good when I found myself in less-than-savory positions and actions?

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I needed to reconcile some things within myself and begging like Keith Sweat alone wouldn’t cut it.

For one, I needed to come clean about something that had the potential to destroy our marriage:  Having that affair was the stupidest thing I have ever done and even if I had kept the other woman under wraps, it would have been only a matter of time before my wife would have discovered what we did on vacation – and the hidden Discover card statements that included epic debauchery over my week away from the Dub Shack. Those lustful moments nearly bombed our five-year marriage and a friendship that extended nearly twenty years; considering how heartbroken I have been, why did I reciprocate the favor to the significantly better half who has been down since Day One? Was I enough of a douche to think I could get away with it even as my dad and our pastor, among others, had an idea of this fling? Any count, I had to ask forgiveness for what I did and to work through it through prayer, counseling, and a renewed commitment to the vows even when I know she can easily walk away taking our daughter with her. Before even Mama Bear would accept my apology, I had to absolutely submit to God’s Will, ways, and His punishment for the adulterous affair that under normal circumstances would have never occurred.

The next step of reconciliation concerns my job. As everyone knows, I do hate my occupation but I fully am aware that it does provide a fairly decent lifestyle (read: okay salary for the area, unreal health insurance, a certain amount of autonomy, and a relatively light commute to and from work). However, it is night shift – seeing my family comes in fifteen-minute intervals or during the phone calls as I drive my little green crossover along Highway 229 and Interstate 30 is really tiresome at this point and it would benefit the three of us to do more than just nap or eat together. Accepting the fact that it is past time to find a day role that maximizes my talents and experiences as well as pays well enough to maintain lifestyle is another part of the process; hopefully, someone agrees and we can move to an elevated opportunity soon.

Adjusting my expectations is the final step of achieving true nirvana – I can no longer coast from one day to the next day or attempt to overwork myself as an exercise for others’ snarky comments. In this instance, my idea of reconciliation is going to be a bit of an outlier as it has been many aspects of my life. Prior to that 2009 back injury, my happy place was the basketball court; all I needed was a ball and a hoop to air out my grievances with the world. With each made jumper or rebound, I found myself more comfortable in my own cocoon; even if I missed the majority of shots that day, the workout provided a respite from a society that looked at me as an awkward genius with a heavy emphasis on the work awkward. Let me make myself crystal clear:  finding nirvana is not the same as cultivating a relationship with God. It’s a difficulty I still have to reconcile daily; being a do-gooder is not the same thing as being an actively practicing Christian working in ministry. I can do good things and make a big impact for the larger world, but without conforming to His Will, all of that goodwill is in vain.

Just because you are a character doesn’t mean that you have character. – The Wolf


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