The SamuraiMarine

Thoughts, Philosophy, Life and Love

Author: Samuel Wright (Page 1 of 33)

30 Years and aging…

Next month, on the 10th of September, I will attend my 30th high school reunion.

Is this important?   No, in the long term scheme of things, it is no more important than if you remembered to floss or flush the toilet.  But to me and to the people that will be there, it is important.

To me, it is important because it will serve as a reminder of who I was in school and who I have become.   It also marks a point where I can look at what I had to say about my last reunion, which I also wrote about here. in a post called “A stirring of Memories” and see what, if any, changes appear between the two experiences.

I am not sure what I expect… I know there are going to be people there that I still do not care for, and some that I may still have some feelings for.  I know that I am going to be forced to do something that I am not ready for… and that is to dance.

I dance in a manner similar to a disabled zebra running from a pack of rabid hyenas.  It is not well done, is not pretty and will probably go badly and poorly for all involved.  So I expect to see Meme’s on Facebook for years to come shortly after the event.

There are so many reasons that people go to these things, I would have to say that my main reason for wanting to go is that I am making an effort to open up.  Having lived a good portion of my life hiding from others, this is something I am hoping to use as a catalyst to start building friendships again.

In looking at it, I can see that it has already started working out for me, as I am now talking with some people that I have not seen in years and we have become very close.  I in one case, there is a person I am talking to that I have known since third grade, or thereabouts.

So… While I am not holding out any undue hope, I am anxious to see if this is going to be me turning a new chapter in my life and bettering who I am.

We shall see…

 

And as with the last time… I will be posting pictures here of the event.  Even the potentially embarrassing dance fiasco, if it happens.

A turn away from the darker me…

I was told recently that some of my posts here have been a little on the darker side.  That while my messages may be positive, that the lead up to the good side of the message was a little dark.

I went through and looked at it and I do have to agree.  But in my defense, I have been going through a pretty dark time.  Anyone that reads this blog and either knows me from work or know about what happened, will know that I have been through a pretty fucked up period as a result of something that happened there.

I cannot and will not go into the details, so do not ask me, but suffice it to say that my trust in people has been damaged irreparably.

So that being said, I am going to start going back to some of the good thing I used to post here.

 

Chasing that which we cannot have…

Why does it seem that we seem prone to look for what we know we can never have or that which has no chance of being ours?

This is more than a rhetorical question, but something that I have been thinking about for some time, especially the last year or so.  Which may also be part of the reason that I have been remiss in my duties as your host with this site.

This last year has been filled with major trials in my life.  Betrayals, hurts, heartbreaks and heartaches.  Some of the problems I have been dealing with are still not gone and may plague me for years to come, but the fact that I have made it through the last year without major complications stands as a testament to my being a little stronger than I thought I was.

There is a lot I wish I could undo about the last eighteen months.  So many things that I wish that I had had a little more hindsight on and practiced a little more wisdom on.  Things that, looking at them now, should have been so obvious to me at the time, however I failed to see the potential for problems because I was not looking at them from a point of logic, just of emotional gratification.

I was chasing something that was unattainable or unreachable… uncatchable, you might say.  I was chasing a part of my youth that I had let go and was trying desperately to live it out anew by surrounding myself with younger people with whom I thought I had created friendships.

I would like to think that I am not alone in these things… that somewhere out there there are others that have been as foolhardy as I was, fellow fools that let their emotional attachments to others and to a time that they missed out on, lead them down a path that would, might and could very possibly create more problems than they had realized.

I would like to say that I have learned my lessons, that I am going out of this last period of time wiser and smarter… but who knows?  Do we ever truly learn our lessons?

One might never know…

Holding on to the happiness

One of the hardest things for me to deal with in life is that so much in life is transitory.  It like often misunderstood or misinterpreted First Nobel Truth says, “Life is Suffering.”  Some people read this and assume that it means that we are supposed to feel pain, sorrow and suffering in order to live.   But it really means that we have to understand and accept that as part of our lives we will experience pain, loss, suffering and other things which will cause us to hurt.

This is especially true of people and occasions.  We have become a people that live from moment to moment, looking for the beauty of the moment and not of the entire picture that is presented to us.   We go to a party, have a great time, then feel sad when it is over and spend our time trying to find ways to relive the fun of that moment in our time.  While we are doing this we are missing out on all the other moments and experienced that fill the gaps between.

In the end, we find ourselves at the end of our lives with nothing but regrets and lost moments, while the rest of the world has kept moving around us, kept growing, kept living.  We find that others have created new stories and experiences, while the others are left to wallow in the mire of the past.  Even if the experiences that they are reliving were fun or inspirational, they are still in the past and the events static, immovable in time.   They are wonderful for reference, but to dwell on them is a waste of life and energy.

So what can we do or what should we do?

This IS the question, isn’t it?  On one hand we want those memories to be a part of our lives and to occasionally walk down memory lane to revisit them, but it is another thing entirely to live there.   So we need to remember that those memories are part of what made us who we are.   The bad and the good, each is a catalyst that is instrumental in guiding our lives through this turbulent stream of time that is life.

We hold onto the memories that make us happy and keep that for the days when you need them, but do not try to remake them or relive them.  You will almost always be disappointed by what you find when you try, because you may no longer be the same person you were at that time.   So often we find that we never are, time and experiences change us, reassign priorities, correct some of the wrongs in our lives and make us different people.   Rarely are we the same people now that we were ten or twenty years prior.

So we take those memories and hold onto them… make them part of who we are and move on.  Every tear, every smile, laugh, hurt, loss… they all are part of the larger equation that makes up who we are and, inevitably, where we are going.

Thank you for your readership.

Aging and looking back

As I approach the big “Five-Oh”, I find that I am more reticent to talk to others about my experiences and the things I have learned along this path that is life.

Thankfully, some of the people that I have around me that are younger than I either appear to be somewhat interested in what I have to say to them, or are very good about feigning interest and putting up with me, so as to prevent, or hope to prevent, me from doing like others do when then reach my age and started repeating the same stories.

But in talking about the past, I find it easier to deal with some of the things I feel are coming up in my future.  I also find myself realizing all the mistakes I have made in the past and how, one way or another, they seem to have had an affect on my person now and who I have become.

In my lifetime I have done some truly inspirational things.  Most of these did not seem that way at the time and rarely were they anything that had any benefit to me, but the fact that I did them at all helped others and impacted others lives.  Likewise I know that I have done many despicable things.  Some of these were done in ignorance and others as acts of malice with the sole intent of harming another person or people.

But both the good and the bad made me who I am now

, and as such I wonder if any of those things were changed… would I still be the same person I am today?

Am I a good person?  People tell me I am, mostly people that I love and I assume love me.  I do not look at myself and say, “Sam, you are a good person.”  That has never been the type of person that I am.

I will leave it for those that come after me to decide if I was a good person or not.   I think that it shows a level of conceit for a person to profess themselves to be good.  I think that the true measure of how good you are is based on the hearts and lives you have touched.  The memories we leave behind are the ultimate proof of how good we are in life.

Thanks for your readership.

 

Dealing with hatred…

How do you deal with hatred?

I have an issue in my life where, for the past few months my hatred for what a person has done to me has consumed me.  I cannot say that I hate the person, I am certain that in their mind their actions were, in some juvenile way, appropriate.

The sad part, in my book, is that this experience has set me back several years in personal development.  It is not easy for me to open up and make friends, it never has been.  I have always been too critical of people, always expecting them to screw me in some way, shape or form.  I know this is a protective measure that has, over the years, become a neurosis and a personality flaw, it is has protected me.  In a manner of thinking, there is now a little voice in my head saying, “See… we told you so…”

But hatred…  that is an emotion I do not like to feel and it drains me… grates on my being…  pulls me down.  Hatred, for me, has always been a trigger for depression.  When I feel it, it consumes me so that I end up not practicing my routines that keep me from feeling down and out.  I have never really been GOOD about handling hatred.

My first response is to lash out at people, if possible the person that triggered it.  That not being an option here and actually not being a logical or smart way to handle it, the next option would be to talk it out with the person in question… that, too, is not an option given the circumstances.

So what do you do when there is not outlet, no solace, no way to clear the air?  (No… seriously, it’s a real question… not rhetoric.)

I know that we all hate from time to time.  We all have things which we are exposed to that cause us pain, frustration, hatred, disappointment, etc…  Things that make us want to lash out, to cry, to scream, to want just go sit in a dark room for a few years.

So… tell me your stories… or examples and if you have something that you would like to share that you think is a magic bullet for such things, do share.

 

SamuraiMarine Blog celebrates it’s 10th Anniversary.

 

The SamuraiMarine Blog is ten years old today.

Ten years ago today, I started the SamuraiMarine Blog on the Google Blogging system and hoped for the best.   That was September 7th, 2005.

 

Letting go…

“Forgive Punish Signpost Means Forgiveness Or Punishment” by Stuart Miles @ FreeDigitalPhotos.Net

“Forgive Punish Signpost Means Forgiveness Or Punishment” by Stuart Miles @ FreeDigitalPhotos.Net

Why do we hang onto things emotionally?  It would be nice to say that I am the only one that does this, so think that somehow I am the strange one and am the exception, not the rule.  But I know I am not.

There is so much baggage that we carry with us through our life.  Most of it is small things, like the embarrassing moments that we experience that causes us to feel stupid, or the times we lose our temper at the wrong time and make a spectacle of ourselves.

Understanding that we cannot go back through time and take it back, understanding that there is nothing we can do about it once it has been done, we should be able to take the lesson learned from whatever happened and move on, eventually accepting what what we did was dumb, embarrassing, painful, libalous, etc…

So I would like to ask, in this short piece, what do you do to get over it?

If you are one of those, like me, that does not get over it, or not easily anyway, how do you deal with the mental baggage that you collect through your life?

Thanks for reading.

Writing – My Friend, My Foe

 

I like writing…  most of the time.

I hate writing… some of the time.

Since I was very young, I have liked telling stories.  I can remember making up stories about spaceships and monsters and telling them to whomever would happen to be willing or captive to me at that time.  Most of the time the unfortunate victims of my stories were my family.

Of all the people that listened to my stories, it was probably my mom that was the most supportive of my efforts.  Maybe she saw something in me that needed to be fed or nurtured, but she helped me.  I can recall when I was about ten that she bought me a nice laptop desk.  Remember, this was in 1978 and there were no PCs or laptops then. There was good old pencil and paper (my mother did not let me use pens until I was older because she felt that pens were too permanent and you needed to be ready to edit.)

When I was a little older, she gave me her Sears electric typewriter.  It was a huge beast weighing in at at least forty pounds.  I would sit and bang on that thing all night, if I were given the chance, and some times I did.  I can recall one night I was typing and then  I heard this banging on the wall.  Turned out it was about two in the morning and the wall my desk was against was where the neighbor’s bedroom was, and apparently he was not pleased with my burning of the literary midnight oil.

To date I have yet to have anything published in the mainstream.  I have a couple items on Amazon and am working on several more that I plan to flood Amazon with here in the near future.  But I am not a person that you would walk into a Starbucks and drop my name and see anything more than a confused look.  You will not walk into your nearest Barnes and Nobles and see my stories anywhere.

But I keep writing.   I do it because it is almost an addiction at this point.  I keep a laptop with me most of the time and a recorder with me often.  If I am not in a position to write down an idea, I will make an audio recording that I can go back to at some point in the future.  I am feeding the addiction, but it is one that I am mostly proud of.

It is not easy to do what I do, at least not for me.  I can write for hours and most of the time I will walk away from my work feeling like I have accomplished something.  Then there are the times that I will write for hours and look at what I have put out and think, “What in the hell was I thinking?  What is this S**t?”   But I never delete my work, at least not anymore.  I only did that a couple times and trust me, that is a pain worse that the realization that what you wrote may be on par with Mailer or McGonagall.

But in light of all this comes the realization that though my love of writing, I may have created a prodigy.  My son, who is only four and a half as of my writing this, has the talent of the tale.  He will sit and talk to us about zombies, monsters, spaceships and anything else that is going through his little imagination at that time.  For his age, he is a pretty skilled storyteller too.  When he tells his tales, he is very animated and he stories are extremely descriptive.  He will go into details about the people, characters and locations when he is telling you these tales.

It is my hope and fear that he will be, as I became, and aspiring writer.  Someone that shares the gift of storytelling with those around him.  I only hope that he is more successful at it than am I.

So keep your eyes out for stories from my son… Gideon S. Wright, due in your local book stores in about fifteen years.

 

Why do we fall in love?

 

Love is a strange thing.   It is wondrous, joyful and one of the most beautiful feelings you can have.   It can motivate you, drive you to levels you may not be able to acheive on your own and it can push a person to live a better life than the would have otherwise.

But love can hurt.  Like when the time comes for your child to leave the house, or when someone you love has to leave, either by design or by chance.  Or when a loved one passes on and leaves us behind to try to fill in the empty void that was the place that once held their presence.

One might think that it is easier to not love at all when you think of the pain that comes from the loss of a love.  That the emptiness in your heart and life are just not worth the effort of having someone there to begin with.  You might also think that maybe love is some cruel joke that life plays on us, to give us that beautiful feeling that lifts your heart and makes you feel like you can do or be anything, but then it can be so easily dashed away…  leaving you so hurt and vulnerable.

Why is it that we succumb to something that can leave us so vulnerable, so weak, so open to attack?  How is it natural for something that cannot be seen, touched or tasted, at least in the purely literal sense, to lay us open like a knife plunged into our stomachs?  Why is it that when we feel the heartache of a love lost, we still take a chance and do it again and again?

But with all the broken hearts I have had in my life… with all the pain and burden I have felt as the result of love over my many years, I would not change a thing.  I would not wish any those emotions away or to have never been.

Even with the pain, with the sorrow, the gut-wrenching agony of the loss, the love was something beautiful that will always be a part of me and will always give me some pleasure in its memory.  When I do think back on those loves, I will enjoy the memory and, to a lesser extent, will relish the pain that is there too.

So…  here’s to love and the ones we offer it to, for the better or the worse.  May we never forget how to love and never be afraid to open our hearts to others, even if there is a chance of it happening again.

“Tis better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all”     -AL Tennyson

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