kaikila sama unelma siis uka on käyttänyt kaikki mun tarrapakettikortit looppuiko muka viime vuanna tuska Michael Skye firstname.lastname@example.org via aweber.com
16 Dec (3 days ago)
I feel sadness right now. The kind that cuts deep.
I know if I don't let myself feel it, it makes a hole
that I'll try to fill with something other than what
I really need.
I saw on Facebook the other day, a photo of many
of my family gathered together. I haven't seen some
of them in years. I've been gone--far gone--for
most of the last seven.
The fears and frustrations that would be difficult
for most people on the road are nothing to me.
I know what it's like to be homeless. I know how
to survive. I'm resourceful and creative as fuck.
There will always be food to eat. Always a place
to lay my head.
The hardest thing for me about being on the road
for so long are those times when I really want to
give my love--but I have nobody to love.
No one to really give my love to in a really big way.
For years that was my brothers and sisters, after
my parent's divorce. They were my people to love.
Starting a family seemed insane when my own family
was so torn apart. We were raised to believe families
are for all eternity. And I fought for them as if that's
what was at stake.
That's where my life's work came from.
For years I gave my love huge primarily through
my iStands, a structure that allowed me to give my
love as big as I gave to my brothers and sisters.
Then I gave my love through the Honor Window
work one-on-one with individuals facing divorce,
family crisis or it's aftermath.
Then when I left the US, it was because it was time
to care for myself. To stop sacrificing for others, for
humanity and for some grand future.
And just attend to me. My heart. My joy. My happiness.
I remember those years as a teenage boy as my
parents fought, I often dreamt and even planned
of running away. Disappearing to some far off island.
Maybe they'll miss me, maybe they'll love me then
--when I'm gone.
At school during lunch, I'd sit alone--or avoid the
cafeteria altogether. Better to be alone. But that boy
just wanted to belong. Just wanted to be loved.
Now, thousands of miles from family, it feels somewhat
the same. But it's different.
I know right now there are countless men who feel
as completely alone right now as I felt all those
years ago, and as I've felt sometimes since.
Alone in a world that makes zero sense to their
heart. About the same amount of sense that public
prisons--I mean schools--made to me.
I've been dreaming for these years that I've been
traveling, of inviting men--just men--to join me
out here in foreign lands. For so many reasons.
There's deep relief and healing available out here.
Out here away from isolation you may feel back
Out here where you can be free of all the pressures,
demands and expectations, long enough to feel again.
To let your heart speak to you.
Sometimes it's just time for a man to get away.
And at key times in my life, there were men who
showed up and supported me in getting the fuck
away, when it's what I most needed.
So, I'm just paying it forward. And calling to those
men who are needing exactly that.
Underneath my sadness right now is my desire
to love, my desire to give.
And I'm just gonna sit here and let Norah Jones
sing to me, and look into her brown eyes (even
if just through a laptop screen) as I feel it all.
And after these men's journeys are underway
in 2017, and after the books I've been working
on are finally out, then I'm going to return to my
iStands, my Honor Window work, and more time
with my family.
But I'm staying gone til then.
And I'll let my sadness, my desire to give my
love, move me to see it through. Until the end.
Sending you and wishing you love, joy and peace
through the holidays and beyond!