Archive for the ‘Living in fear’ Category

Graceful Dancing

Posted: May 16, 2015 in Absolute Truth, Abuse, Aging, America, Anxiety, Arguments, Atheism, Atheist, Bi-Polar, Bible, Blog, Blogging, Books, Brainwashed, Change, Charity, Charity Foundations, Christianity, Church, Community, Confessions, Coping, Corporate Culture, Crisis, Crooked Politicians, Culture, Death, Debates, Depression, Diary, Dilemma, Dreams, Duty of Care, Dying, Elderly, Emotional Abuse, Epic Battle, Ethics, Evil, Faith, Family, Fear, Forgiveness, God, Good, Good-byes, Greed, Grief, Haile Selassie, Insanity, Inside My Mind, Jesus, Journal, Lies and broken promises, Life, Lists, Living in fear, Logic, Love, Mania, Mental Health, Mental Illness, Minnesota, Misc, miscellaneous, Moral Theories, Morals, Motivation, Mourning, Nursing Homes, Opinion, Pain, Personal, Philosophy, Politics, Prayers, Progress, Psychosis, Quotes, Random, Random Thoughts, Rants, Reform, Rejection, Rights, Sadness, Self-esteem, Self-Help, Self-image, Social Debates, Social Injustices, Society, Sorrow, Spirituality, Stress, Suffering, Suicide, Suicide Note, The Bible, The Bucket List Foundation, The Philosophy of Quotes, Theology, TheRandomArtist, Thoughts, Treatment, Uncategorized, Unity, Verbal Abuse, Work, Work Environment, Writing
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The choice of letting go and saying goodbye is never easy, yet the decision to hold on is even harder. I have let go of hopes, dreams, relationships, redemption and written my goodbyes many times in the past, but every morning I regret my choices and my decisions to hold on… This was the beginning of the post I was working on last Saturday, what was to follow was going to be my final words then swallow every bit of medication I had and finally be at peace. Instead I ended up in the psych ward at Abbot where I stayed until yesterday against my doctors and others advice. I didn’t see the point in staying, all they did was drug me to the point where all I could do was sleep. I was at a crossroads where I knew whether I chose to stay or go I was leaving in worse shape when wen I went in. When I walked out of the hospital and reality came crashing down on me I knew right then and there that I fucked up choosing to go to begin with, yet again regretting my decision to hold on. So I am back where I started but with a bit more inner strength then I had before because I received a mental vacation, but seriously how long will that last? The answer will come in the next week or so as I sit back and see how everything plays out between my job, dream, finances, and relationships. I feel I am at the point where depending on how these things play out will determine my future.

My life is riddled with mistakes, and regrets each one adding to the greater mound of shit called life. At this moment three key things come to mind, keep in mind this is not in chronological order of importance.

  1. Failing at fixing all the problems at the nursing home I work at to improve the quality of life of the residents I have grown to care for so deeply.
  2. Giving up on my dreams of becoming a writer or an artist.
  3. Not finding redemption for the countless number of lives I have destroyed in my 35 years on this earth.
  4. Not following through with shit on November 26th.

I think what it comes down to is acceptance. I need to accept that I won’t ever be more than I am right now. I have to finally accept I won’t ever be able to help the residents where I work. I don’t know what’s worse giving up on my dreams or trying to redeem myself by helping people just like me who can’t help themselves. I have done shitty things; I have poisoned and hurt everyone and everything I have ever touched. Many of my poems touch on this concept of being a “virus.”

For over six years I have worked so hard to make up for all the pain and suffering I have caused by reducing the pain and suffering the residents at the nursing home I work for by the hands and decisions of the very same people who are supposed to care for and safe guard these residents. There are many good hearted people whom I work with who carry this burden of failure, if any of them are reading this they know the deep sorrow and feeling of helplessness of not being able to give these guys the proper quality of life they deserve.

I have been in business with and covered up things for “business associates” who wouldn’t hesitate putting a bullet in your head, but being involved with and covering up for an employer who is a non-profit and allows vulnerable adults and employees to be harassed mistreated and discriminated against is far worse in my eyes. There are many people at the nursing home I work at who see the same things I see but do not act; as Haile Selassie so eloquently put it

Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.”

All of the people involved in my past life and unfortunately as of late too much of my current life chose “the life” and in the end we all end up in one of two places, we deserve whatever end to our means no matter how horrific or painful. Our residents on the other hand do not deserve the means that transpire until their end comes.

This is my apology to the residents that have come and gone who failed to receive the proper quality of life they deserved. I am sorry that I can no longer continue to fight for the change needed, it is destroying me. My old associates showed more mercy delivering people to their end, than the people I work for now. The people employed by this company who care are used and pushed until they break while the predators are allowed to continue to prey.

Non-profits are not supposed to be run like a criminal organization where fear and intimidation rule. Non-profits are supposed to be built upon something called “Duty of care.” If any one of the “criminals” who work at this nursing home is reading this let me define what duty of care means.

“Duty of care is the moral and legal obligation to attend to the safety and wellbeing of those they serve, those who work for them and others who come into contact with their operations.”

Now to wrap things up there may be some people who do not understand what the title of this entry has to do with the content. Below is a Youtube link of Justin Furstenfeld performing the song “Graceful Dancing.” After hearing his introduction to this powerful song, and seeing the familiar emotions during his performance I decided to check myself into the hospital which drastically changed the content of this post. For that I thank the artist and the person who posted this video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fCFpgfvPGZo&list=PLIWCEQoVmfdHIakN42xTrXYjPnE6I3EHB&index=55

 

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There is a place we go

Where we cannot find light

Our eyes adjusted

To our own twisted Plight

We hide in places

Live with fright

Within this never-ending night

We roam

We seek

In search of light

Mind to fucked to speak

Within his never-ending night

We reach our hands up high

Seeking comfort from imaginary hands

We find nothing

Only the pain

Which never went away

No end in sight

Within this never-ending night

Scream all you want

No one will hear

Reality is no one is there

I seek

Until my knees are weak

Reality setting in

I have traveled nowhere

Trapped within

My suffocating box

I am in this never-ending night

A feeble prayer

To a God who was never there

The time has come

Within this box

My mind rots

No air

No light

No hope

Only madness

Brought on from my never-ending night

My cold dark stare

nothing is something

Better

Than living in my never-ending night

In my hands

I hold the key

My only freedom

Only escape

From my never-ending night

One blissful pull

I enter into the light

It amazes me how quickly I can be beaten down. How easily I can fall apart. How little I can handle. How easily I can lie to myself. Its borderline delusional laced with denial. Happiness and hope are things I cannot know, let alone ever have. I want the acceptance, of knowing things will never be alright. I want the comfort that comes from embracing this reality. I don’t want to feel. I don’t want to think. Life was better when I was dead inside. It is so much better than to continue living a lie.

Better Without

I try so hard

Not to become my fathers son

I try so hard

To be a father sculpted by Michelangelo

Painted by da Vinci

Faced with failure

Endless denial

Self deception  

To deny the truth

I am a father designed by an earless madman

I question are they better without

 

Trapped in a Divine Comedy

Inferno is Alpha and Omega

I wish there was a cure

Sadness filled with madness

Meds cannot take away

A brain still in pain

How do you apologize

  When the illness lets them down

The more I write

The clearer it becomes

They may be better without

 

They love the mania

Hate the downs

Flick the switch

From mania to a ditch

Turning from this to that

They never know which dad I’ll be

Denying them the comfort of stability

Please don’t let them be better without

 

What am I then?

A cancer to my family

They know I am sick

They know daddy isn’t the same

Wishing he was someone else

Transparent they see what’s inside

They hate my illness

Hating myself

That shame and stain forever remains

They now question are they better without

Face-to-face with this question

Like a coward I hide

In denial

My blanket of lies

I am their painting of a father

A father my son doesn’t want to become

The question has been answered

They are better without

By: Tim Lundmark

This is a serious and troubling question I have been asking myself for 15 years; which yields a bi-polar answer. Regardless of the feedback and criticism I have heard over and over again during these same 15 years; I always tried to counter act the negatives with positive self talk. As a parent I have made countless mistakes and bad decisions, which only reinforced the criticism I was hearing. Through the years I have had to face some ugly truths about myself, and come to terms with the fact; I can no longer deny the validity of said criticisms. Like most people in the world I blamed others, and made justifications for my actions. Here is where things get complicated; I have never been 100% sure if everything I just said is reality, my wife’s subjective reality, or both. Up until recently I never really knew what to believe.

With everything that has been going on, the way I have fallen apart and the undeniable truths I have been shown I can no longer deny the question of if my children are better off without me in their lives. I have touched on this in a prior post, honestly I can’t handle going into detail on how all of these truths have come together. I have cried so much at work recently I can’t try to truly feel through and process the shame and guilt I feel right now.

In anticipation for the comments I will receive about how important it is for children to have their father’s in their lives; my only reply is they have never experienced living with a father you tried to pray to God would go away. I know this from my ultimate fear of becoming my father’s son, having this fear is proof I would have been better off without. Because of this situation I am fucking them up because I have fallen apart, I am fucking them up because I am leaving, and my wife believes because of my MI, and that I will be on my own the damage I will cause them in the future will be far worse than anything I have done to date. With everything I have done, why would I continue to cause damage to their lives?

I know how badly I have fallen apart at home, and in all honesty I feel things will get far worse before they get better once I leave. I can’t find any logical reason, to put my children through the coming storm.

If you look out into emptiness, your world will become empty. If you look at the blessings, your life will be blessed.

I was reading some uplifting comments a few friends made about one of my recent drawings on Facebook. Despite everything I couldn’t help but smile, and feel good about myself. I started to reflect on how much my life has changed since I reactivated my Facebook account. It didn’t take long to reach the conclusion that this decision literally saved my life. It’s not actually FB that did the saving; it’s the angels I discovered within and the miracles they performed who deserve the credit. I would not be where I am today if it were not for some very special people on Facebook, because I am not sure their feelings on this matter I will not use any names, but I do hope if you are reading this you know this is dedicated to you.

I was trying to cope with a major crisis, directly caused by the only tangible person in my support system. The only friend I had to lean on lives in Arizona, which made regular communication difficult.  I felt completely isolated and alone. Prior to reactivating my FB account I took a huge leap of social faith, and started opening up to some people at work. Words cannot even describe how awkward and scary this was for me, hell half the time after a conversation I felt like I had just run an emotional mile. I would sit back just praying I didn’t ramble on, and make a complete fool out of myself. If it were not for my newly formed friendships at work, I would have never rediscovered my value and self-worth as a person. They showed me, that with a strong support group I could get through this crisis. They encouraged me to reactivate my FB account to see if I could continue to build on this newly formed foundation. I want to say thank you, for taking the time to listen, and for being nonjudgmental when I couldn’t hold it together anymore and just sobbed.

To be honest I wasn’t expecting anything to happen once I reactivated my account. I was never the social butterfly, so I was confident there would be no parade welcoming me back into the world. I decided I was going to approach FB the same way I approach my writing…with honesty. I started posting about my chaotic life and how I was doing. I included links to my blog, and posted pictures of my drawings. This terrified me! I was showing the real me, not the fool who wears masks just to be accepted. I was symbolically streaking naked across the FB landscape exposing myself for all to see.

I never imagined the outcome would be discovering I had friends that care about me. Even though I have not spoken to or seen them in ages, they made it clear they were here for me. I cannot describe this unfamiliar feeling, and how difficult it is for me to believe I am not alone. Between work, and now FB I have been more social in the last month than I have been in fifteen years.

I don’t think people ever truly realize the impact they have on others. Everyone I have had the honor and privilege of communicating with has made a tremendous impact on my life. During one conversation I learned there are actually woman out there who love comics as much as I do, and in another I had an amazing therapeutic conversation with a complete stranger who happened to be a Christian. What made it beautiful is we were on completely different belief spectrum’s, yet clicked. These are just two examples; I get excited and look forward to every future conversations.

Everyday I have certain things that I say over and over again to try and stay positive and one of them is this “The part of you that thrives is the part you feed the most.” I owe so much to those who take the time to comment on my art. I don’t think they realize the impact their words have on me, let alone the added impact of who these words are coming from. Sometimes the person making the comment means more than and enhances the comment itself.

Last Thursday I can honestly say, I experienced true hopelessness. I sincerely could not tell you the last time I was in so much emotional pain. I had given up, and I was searching for viable reasons for why I shouldn’t. I know I said I wasn’t going to mention names, but if it were not for Shawn Johnson I honestly don’t think I would be here today. All of this pain and hopelessness that was eating away at me; he took that shit away and replaced it with hope. There is no way I can repay you; besides letting you know you have a brother for life.

I don’t believe in miracles or angels, but I am at an impasse trying to find the proper definition to explain these two concepts. I don’t know any other way to describe what has happened since I have opened myself up to friends at work and those on FB besides anything less than a miracle. The only word or concept I can think of to call those of you who are here for me, even in the smallest of ways; are angels.

Thank you.

I have been receiving valued advice on how I should be careful what I write considering everything that is going on. I cannot even keep track, of how many times in the past this same advice has been given to me. I wasn’t able to follow it then, and I can’t follow it now. I have never understood the point of writing poetry or music just for the sake of it. Art in any form is meant to be personal and hold personal meaning, this is how art manifests itself into a ting of beauty. I won’t write unless the very essence of who I am, and how I feel can bleed out into my words, if I do anything less than this I am rejecting my true self. Being rejected by others is horrible enough, but if you reject who you really are you will spend the rest of your life living amongst the chameleons and the fools who hide behind masks and perceived social norms.

I have lived my entire life as a chameleon, and played the fool behind the mask. I had difficulty socializing with my peers, so I had to figure out who I needed to be in order for them to accept me. Living my entire life in this manner, can I honestly say I know who I REALLY am? The person I feel I am is the person I have been told I am over and over again. This only reinforces my chameleon colors, and motivates me to build better masks. I cannot stand the reflection of the man of clay you shaped to feel worthless. I know those who are saying these are victim statements, which just by saying such a thing does not validate the individuals real feelings.

The only time I have ever felt safe and free enough to be the real me is when I write. It is therapeutic to write books and post honesty in its purist form for the world to see. The thought of altering the only real honesty and relationship I have in my life, because of the fear of my soon to be ex-wife using my words against me, is just reinforcing the very self-hatred I am trying to overcome. If a judge were to decide that my children shouldn’t be with me because of who I really am, than I obviously have no business being a parent. I do not fear this will be the outcome.

I consider anything I write to be confessional in nature. I am always honest and true to myself regardless of any criticisms or judgments I may receive. I have paid a regrettable price for things I have written in the past. I haven’t spoken to my father in over four years for many reasons, but a recurring reason was a poem I wrote in one of my books. This in of itself sucks, but I feel the outcome was inevitable regardless. My biggest regret is the hurt, pain, and rift I created in regards to a family reunion. I felt hurt and rejected by my family for showing the real me, but in reality it was how I reacted to those feelings instead of thinking like a logical adult I acted like a child. This only made the situation worse and resulted in hurting the ones who were actually supporting me. Although it has taken some time it is one of those valuable life lessons I have learned about taking real ownership for my actions without the use of the word “but”.

The only true negative about such pure honesty is knowing I will be single for the remainder of my years.

Yesterday I was told to move out immediately, and to go live at who was ever house I have been going to at night. I explained again as I have in the past that where I goes work. I sit in my office that is what I do. So I say no I’m not going to move out because I have no place to go. Things are said as they always are feelings are felt, and then a new day begins. When I get to work this morning I received an e-mail saying I need to move out now. My response was okay. She knows I don’t have a place to go, thus technically making me homeless. Now let me add that she expects me to pay half of the bills for June, July, and, August. Finally let me also add that she wants me to set up a visitation schedule. Visitation where there is no home. Stay with me here for a minute, because if what I am about to say makes perfect sense, then perhaps I am truly that mentally ill.

She wants me to immediately move out, with nowhere to go, because the wake of the destruction I am leaving behind by the thing said to her and the kids are irreversible. I know and admit I have not had nice things to say to her. This is not a byproduct of mental illness; this is a byproduct of her cheating on me. I know and admit that I used poor judgment in something I have said to my daughter. I have heard her use poor choices and say things that should not have been said to our kids. I am sure many parents out there have said something to their child that they regretted saying. But for me this is a byproduct of my mental illness and I am causing irreversible damage, and therefore need to leave immediately, thus becoming homeless. Does this make sense? Am I crazy because I do not see the logic or reasoning behind this?

She talks about making poor decisions and actions that are causing irreversible damage. Was her decision to be unfaithful a good decision, and didn’t cause irreversible damage to me and our children? Was her decision to throw all my clothes in the basement where our children could clearly see a good decision that isn’t going to cause irreversible damage? During this whole process can she truly say that she has not said or done things that haven’t caused irreversible damage? Because of this I need to leave immediately, and be homeless. Will her decision to throw me out of the house with nowhere to go, not cause me or our children irreversible damage? Does this make sense? Am I crazy because I do not see the logic or reasoning behind this?

I am going to move out immediately. I would rather be homeless, then beg to continue living there after everything that has happened.

My intended focus this week was to break down, analyze, and apply my methodology to three single events with the intended outcome of making the correct choice. Do I stay or do I go? I have repeatedly replayed the same haunting moment of seeing my son still and quiet on his bike as he watched me get in the car to go to work. In that moment I could see in his eyes the internal conflict between acceptance and denial that his dad is slipping away. I could see and understand all too well the sadness he was trying so bravely to hide.

It is difficult for me to release my sadness and sorrow through the shedding of tears. The only time the outside world can see what I try so hard to hide, is when I cannot hold back my tears. At that moment, just as in this moment writing about it I cannot stop the tears. Many people say that crying is supposed to be this wonderful release of pent up emotions. It’s not like that for me. Tears feel like razor blades running down my face, slicing through self-denial and exposing my weakness and vulnerability. Regardless of how many times I have been told I am selfish and only think of myself, at the end of the day my meaning in life, and my purpose is to not break his heart. I am well aware I will never win the father of the year award. To be honest with you I don’t even know if I’m a good father. Despite what I am told I know I have always tried to be the best dad I could be.

After the series of events that took place yesterday, or would it be considered today? I haven’t slept for days so time holds no logical meaning. After said events the only answer to my opening question; is to go. There are only so many pieces someone can be broken into before they are unable to be put back together. I now need to come to terms with the sobering reality that I will become in my own eyes everything I ever swore I wouldn’t. I will become my fathers son. I am desperately seeking, yet fear I will be unable to live with the guilt, or forgive myself.

Children are not stone, nor are they steel. They are dirt and clay, molded by the hands of experience. There is no way to reconcile the loss of my son’s happiness and hope due to the harsh reality of my life, which I have viciously infected upon my family. Despite my frequent mental transformations I made the decision to get married and have children; in that single moment I destroyed their lives. I suppose I was caught up in the perceived human need for significance, by my own sense of insecurity. Here is where I cannot deny my selfishness. Broken dolls are meant to walk alone.

In moments like this I want to hide within the minds of Soren Kierkegaard and Albert Camus covering myself in the blanket of Absurdism. Believing all struggles for life is for nothing. There is only birth and death, and everything in between is our feeble attempt to find meaning and purpose. This concept is wonderful, but in the back of my mind I’m burdened with this question. What if birth and death were only two points, that they were inconsequential compared to what happens between them?

In a few more hours 2010 will be coming to an end. I cannot decide whether this is a good or bad thing. I always fear the beginning of a new year because I hate the mystery and uncertainty. I am happy I went another year without hearing the words “terminal cancer,” for this I am extremely grateful. I would say for sure this was an up and down year. On the positive side I can say I am now into my second year of my fifteen year plan, but unfortunately this is also a negative. I started with so many good ideas, which I wished could have been put in print, unfortunately I have scraped many of my book ideas, because I feel they were a waste of time. My pursuit of my dream has caused many issues at home which I am not going to get into on this post. It is amazing to me how the pursuit of my dream has yielded such negativity. Living by my ego driven desires has caused many issues. I cannot seem to shed this destructive force. I hope this New Year brings me a step closer to realizing my dream, and I hope this brings positive things instead of negative.

I had a goal to get my poetry out to the public, and had a goal to do two readings by the end of this month, but I keep pushing it back. At first I said I need a few copies of my books, and then I would put myself out there, then it was I will do a reading once I get my business cards. I received my business cards and then said I will do one after I come up with a set list. Sadly to date I have not worked on my set list, in the fear of putting myself out there. I am scared to stand in front of a crowed and read my poetry in fear I will be rejected. Since my poetry is so personal I fear if I my poetry is rejected then that in turn means I am being rejected as a person. I really hope I am able to overcome this fear in 2011 because I want my voice to be heard.

January will mark the beginning of the second year of this blog. I am proud of myself for keeping it going this long. I am amazed I still have new things to write about on a daily basis. I am not so happy with my limited readers though. I was expecting larger growth then what I currently have. Rambling has told me if I am writing for stats or to the readers then I am not really a writer. His words of advice along with the feedback from my wife and some of my dedicated readers meant a lot to me this year. I am pleased in that category, if anything I can say I made a few new friends. I have enjoyed pouring my heart and soul into this thing. It has been a great outlet which I feel has kept me sane. There were many times I was at the point of really losing it and on the path to a certain trip into the loony bin, but my writing has saved me time and time again. For this I am grateful.    

I really think 2011 will be my make or break year. If I do not see some significant progress in my quest for my dream I may need to shorten up my plan to a two or three year goal. I hope this is the year I find an agent and get my kids books off the ground. I hope this year I will develop a local readership to get my poetry heard. I hope this year I can prove I am a good husband and father. I hope this year my spirituality will grow, and I will be closer to understanding and live in harmony with the Tao. I hope this year brings joy and beauty to my readers. I hope this year will bring The Bucket List Foundation closer to becoming a non-profit so we can help those who are in need. I hope this year I learn to live in the moment instead of fearing the future. Finally I hope this year I do not hear the words “terminal cancer.”

The question that I am going to ask, I’m hoping to get a 3rd party outside opinion on and it is a very religious based question which hopefully you won’t mind but I have noticed with the blog you have touched on different aspects of religion, so here it goes….

I have two girls. One is almost two and the other was born almost a week ago. It was brought to my attention at the birth of my second daughter by my eventually to be mother in-law that I need to get her and her older sister baptized and I need to get them both baptized right away because I waited too long to baptized my older daughter and if anything happens to her she will go to hell. Obviously the remedy would be to baptize. (I kept putting it off with the first child unfortunately) The only issue is that my mother in-law and the father of my children are raging Catholics. I am Lutheran. I don’t really belong to a church though but I was a raised a Lutheran. They want me to baptize my girls Catholic and my mother in-law even has the godparents picked out and the church and probably everything else down to the napkins that will be used at the reception. Ideally I would like my children to be able to choose what religion they would like to practice and I think that with how strict Catholicism seems to be I don’t really want to baptize them in a Catholic church with two strangers acting as their god-parents just because they are friends with my mother in-law unless it was something that I knew that they would want. I have been researching baptism and a lot of the churches want you to be registered as an active church member as well as to take a pre-baptism class and so on and so forth. 

What would your advice be to my situation? Do you think that I should just back up and set my beliefs aside for right now and get the girls baptized as Catholics? Should I maybe do an elope type of thing and go to the local Lutheran Church with some witnesses and baptize them as Lutherans? I have no idea what to do and I am feeling very forced into something that should be a joyous occasion.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read my situation/question!

Sincerely,

Monica

Monica,

Thank you for the question Monica. I will attempt to answer this question in a non-biased way. First I will start with; no one no matter how old they are should have religious believes forced upon them. Your future mother in-law should not attempt to steamroll you into making a decision you do not feel comfortable with. The fact she is your “future” mother in-law only increases the pressure you are feeling. If you look at the many inquisitions throughout history; you will discover Catholics tend to be a tad bit more forceful when pushing their beliefs on other people. Your future mother in-law should respect your given right of freedom of religion. 

I do not believe having your children baptized in any faith; will matter either way. To me it is a ritualistic act, and has no barring on where your children’s souls would go if they were to pass today. It is my understanding the God of the Bible is a jealous and vengeful God, who prefers us to fear Him. With that being said; I have a hard time believing the concept of Him denying your innocent child a ticket into heaven based on whether you did or did not have holy water on their body. This concept is absurd and if I was hearing this for the first time I would not want anything to do with a God so spiteful. I am not 100% on this but I believe it says your children can suffer based off the sins of their parents. I am of the belief these concepts were added to the Bible for purposes of fear mongering and are used in the form of re-education.

I do not believe children should be subjected to religion, I believe this is a deeply personal and life altering decision. This decision should be mad when they are at the age of reason. This goes back to fear mongering tactics aimed at scaring them into believing based on the possibility of whether their soul will be sent to a permanent time-out in hell. I have heard from many people who say “I would rather believe and be wrong, then to not believe and be wrong.” This comment has come out from far to many people and is evident of a forced foundation of belief. When we believe based off this assumption is when we live a life of consistently lying to ourselves.

The question I have for you is what do you believe? They are your children, and as their mother you need to follow is in their best interest. Do not make a decision based off appeasing your future in-laws. Being baptized is an intimate and big religious step, and your children deserve the right to make that decision on their own.

Many of us walk through our daily lives; accepting things as they are. We shuffle out of our beds, our jobs, the store, to our homes, watch television, and then back to bed. We wake up and relive the same thing the next day. We accept and become complacent with our lives, our government, and the world around us. We accept things the way they are; even if we do not agree with it. Living by motto’s such as “what can I do,” “its not my problem,” “I just don’t want to get involved.” It is this burnt out acceptance our country thrives off of. The powers that be; do not want us to look at our lives under a microscope, or have the energy to fight for change.

There are people in this country who are unemployed and cannot support their families. There are those individuals who are losing their homes. Many of our major metropolitan areas and suburbs are swarming with the hungry and homelessness. We accept our schools turning to shit especially in low economic communities, , we accept our government selling the people out to big business, we accept no true universal healthcare, we accept getting screwed by insurance companies, we accept war, we accept the deterioration of morals and ethics within our country, we accept these things and so much more.

We feel these things are so large and daunting they will never change. It is this acceptance and compliancy which keeps us from truly changing the world and bettering the lives of ourselves, as well as those in our country that need it. How can we expect these things to improve if we do nothing? It is possible to change our society if people actually acted when they notice social evils and misfortune. If everyone stood up to the things which hold us down it will gradually change until the problem is solved

There numerous levels of human suffering we can never truly know, nor do we take the time to recognize or acknowledge them. It is a form of societal denial or sweeping things under the proverbial rug. There are worlds within worlds where violence and suffering are the norm. Hunger and homelessness, we wish it was not there, and we may feel bad about it, yet we turn our back on those who are suffering and experiencing hardships. We think of ourselves first, and our neighbors last. We live by the motto’s “it is not my problem,” “what can I do about it?” “I just don’t want to get involved.”

It’s sad; we accept we are where we are and choose to do nothing about it. This thinking only contributes to destruction of our society, as well as keeps our political process from offering any real change to the people.

The facts are we can do something about it. We can if we make ourselves aware of the human suffering going on in our country, and the social and economical shackles we as a people are in and all we need to do is open our eyes and try. If you started today the pay it forward concept, and those who you helped paid it forward our country would change. If the Tea Baggers can unit together for the greater evil, then why can’t we band together for the greater good?

What do you think?

Check out my website to read more on what you can do. www.thephilosophyofme.com under the “American Republic Movement” tab