Demons

And He asked him, “What is thy name?” And he answered, saying, “My name is Legion; for we are many.” Mark 5:9, KJV

I’ve always found this passage of the bible extremely interesting. Jesus is speaking to demons from hell that has occupied the body of a man from Gadarenes. The fact that Jesus both recognized and addressed the demons is inspiring.

In my life I too have a legion of demons. These are mistakes I’ve made in the course of my life and the effects of those mistakes. The errors in judgment become demonic when they consume my thoughts of future endeavors. For instance, after divorcing my first wife I allowed the idea that I was not worthy of love to haunt me and engage in reckless behavior. I treated women horribly because I was convinced that I was a horrible person. I felt that I deserved the pain that would be birthed of the pain I inflicted. The funny thing about demons is that they are virtually harmless. It is the whispers and suggestions they make that are harmful, more accurately; it is our acceptance of those suggestions that can be catastrophic.

My demons have names and are a part of the supporting cast of the play that is my life. Regret, Pity, Apathy, Self-Loathing, and Envy are all unique characters that make script changes if I allow them to. Just the other day, Envy had taken center-stage and convinced me to covet the life of men that I assumed had more than me. Luckily, God has given me a leading life that reminds me constantly of how much I’ve been blessed. She entreats me to take inventory of my life and realize that God is not through with me. She also reminds me that I have children that are watching to see if I live life to the fullest or succumb to it.
I want to believe that my demons can be used for a better purpose. If I can use Regret to help me to consider other people’s feelings before making a decision, then maybe I’ll experience him less. If Apathy reminds me that caring for something other than myself breeds empathy then he has served his purpose. When I realize that Self-Loathing is a decision that can easily be changed to self-worth, then this demon is a little less terrifying.

Jesus recognized that the man from Gadarenes was not evil but was possessed by evil. He was able to see good though it was masked by iniquity. I don’t think that this a trait Jesus alone possessed. I believe that we were all blessed with this unique ability to look beyond what our eyes see. Sometimes the sheep is forced to don the wolf’s clothing hoping that someone can see through the façade and rescue him. As a sheep who constantly finds himself in costume, I thank God that He has made me more powerful than my demons and that He saw fit to bless me with people in my life with perfect sight.

Fighting Tony

I can't believe that it's been so long since I've last posted. I have to put my priorities in better order and make a decision about this writing venture once and for all!

Since my last post, I've written a few things here and there but nothing that I'm ready to publish. Honestly, there is something inside me of me that's keeping me from hearing my voice. There's this overwhelming feeling that every single word I put on a page requires meaning and should provoke my readers. The vanity in the preceding statement is a bit ridiculous considering I only have 10 readers.

I've promised myself so many times that I would pursue the title of novelist again with fervency but the immediate gratification that I depend on doesn't accompany writing. Writing is a process and so is developing a readership. The quickest way for me to lose interest in a writer is for her to gives up on her craft and attempt to "write for me" the reader. The presumption that a writer knows what I want as reader insults me considering I have no idea myself.

I enjoy the selfish and provocative writings of Ellison, Angelou, and even Shakespeare. Writers who don't care if you read or not because it's not about you. Their writings are therapy for their souls that they willingly share for your gratitude not your approval. But who am I to have that level of audacity? Who am I to demand that you accept my words and provide me the validation I seek to call myself a writer? It would be just as ridiculous for Ernie Barnes to force you to frame his paintings in your home or Miles Davis to insist that his records provide the soundtrack to your emotional life. Preposterous!!

Yet we have made icons of these artist. We have created a larger than life persona for them, whether they wanted it or not. I want to believe that I possess the ability to write with absolutely no thought about the end result. I want to believe that by simply putting the words on the page, the writer in me wins the battle for my mind with the pragmatic Tony who pays bills, spends time with his children, loves his wife, and goes to work. To even suggest a peace treaty between these two powerful entities seems to be a fruitless endeavor. Regardless, I'm not ready to call myself anything less than a writer and I'm far from allowing your interest (or lack of interest) in my words to determine my worth. So if you are one of the fortunate few who look forward to these chronicles, brace yourself - I'm about to show you how incredibly selfish and grateful I can be!!

Quality Time

Time, a seemingly immeasurable object, is constantly engaged in a rousing game of tug-of-war with me. It seems there is never enough time to do the things that need to be done and far too much time to do nothing. Splitting my time, not equally but evenly between God, my family, work, and myself is an extremely daunting task. My life is often lived based on the time. The question, “Is there enough time?” seems to be answered more often in the negative than the carefree. Enough time for what?

There’s a long-standing joke in my family about Sunday. We all agree that Sunday at 4:00p.m. is the official end of the weekend. What happens after four o’clock that will not cause us to be tired on Monday morning? Nothing. So starting on Saturday morning (a day we are very careless with our time) we watch the clock dreading Sunday at 4:oop.m. As ridiculous as the concept maybe it often has a profound effect on how we spend our time and increases our desire to not waste time. The irony of course, is that weekends were built for just that sort of thing. What could be more fun that to spend 48hrs doing absolutely nothing? Absolutely nothing.

This past weekend my wife and I found ourselves in the DINK category and will remain Double Income No Kids for the entire summer. Trips to the grocery store will be less financially and emotionally draining and no one will knock on the door at 6:00a.m. demanding breakfast. There will be no homework to work on and no reminders to take out the trash. (I’m acutely aware that my kid’s chores became my chores on their vacation.) Don’t get me wrong, my wife and I love our children dearly but the very idea of not picking anyone up from school actually excites me.

Our first weekend alone, we spent a romantic evening in a nice hotel in San Diego near Mission Bay. Our room was beautiful, it overlooked the water and we even splurged with room service. We enjoyed luxuries that we wouldn’t dare had we been with the kids. We sat in the hot tub; missing, was my wife constantly doing a “where are the kids” check by the pool. We packed our overnight bags without having to inspect the clothing choices of all travelers. We dined in a fine restaurant without a suspicious, devout carnivore inspecting her plate for hidden vegetables. We had adult conversations without the electronic hum of portable game devices. Yes, it was absolute bliss. My wife and I reconnected in way that we haven’t since… well the last time the kids went away.

The quality of the time we spend together makes it so much more enjoyable dealing with the inevitable ups and downs of life. The children are our pride and joy but there introductions and stumbles through life can be very time consuming. Time should be a luxury that we try to never take for granted. Every moment literally counts and can never be restored or re-done. For that reason, every second God has blessed me to breathe, rhyme and reason is a gift.