The Bravest Among Us

Have you ever noticed how the bravest people among us are often those who appear to be the most fragile? I remember in school there was this kid who was always so pale and thin. He was picked on by many of the bullies. Having endured that sort of treatment myself, I knew that it wasn't an easy road for him. So I befriended him. In so doing I was risking getting the bejeebers beaten out of me again, but I figured that could possibly happen sooner or later anyway, so why not make a friend. He was not an easy cookie to crack. He was very shy, closed, private and sometimes, when he would actually talk, he would say things that would normally make a person say to themselves, "Screw it, I was only trying to be your friend and now you've blown it, so to heck with you!" But what he didn't know was that what he held inside himself in the form of pain, I held in the form of persistence. It took a good month and a half, but he finally opened up to me. We became good friends, but kept the friendship very private because he didn't want to connect with anyone else.

Why did he not want to connect with anyone else? Because he was dying. He had cancer. We all have our cross to bear and his was this disease that was eating away at his immune system and slowly killing him. He didn't live that long. In fact, I think it was less than a year and then I was at his funeral. This was very sad to me. Not because he died. It was sad because others in the world around him were mean to him. It was sad because he didn't feel safe enough to share things with others, sometimes myself included. It was sad because others didn't get a chance, in their ignorance, to see the tremendous strength and bravery that this young kid had. And then he was gone. The bullies went on with their lives and became more abusive as they went. The world kept turning and time kept moving right along. In some ways, if one were to not see more deeply into things, it was almost as though he had never existed. But for myself and certainly for his family, he still exists in our hearts. We got to see the brave soul that he was. We got to see the vibrant life that he had. We got to see the Light within every aspect of his being. And then, like a burned out star, he was no longer here on this earth for us to see.

He still visits me now and then. I am happy when I see him. He is ecstatic that I have grown to become who I am and to do what I do. He recently visited me and told me that his time to reincarnate was close at hand. Now, in spirit terms this could mean immediately or it could mean sometime in the next decade or so. But he is ready to take on the world again. I hope that I have the opportunity to meet him in his new form, whenever and wherever he decides to come back.

Blessed Be
Trent
www.deerhornshamanic.com

Life is too short to not pay attention!

“To die without being forgotten is to be eternal.” Lao-tzu. This from a person who’s philosophy has lasted thousands of years! Talk about being eternal! I enjoy this statement because we often get caught up in some of the silliest things in our lives and forget what is really important. The other day a young woman got off a city bus and walked right out in front of me as I was driving down the street. She was on her cell phone, not paying attention at all to what she was doing. Brakes on a vehicle are a great thing, when you have enough notice to use them. She was very fortunate that day. But I gave her a little toot with the horn to wake her up so that she didn’t kill herself, and she simply gave a glare and continued talking as she walked across the street while continuing this “very important phone call”.

I don’t know if the call was personal or professional, but it was certainly not worth risking her life. And I began to wonder how she would be remembered? Being very young, she may not have had time yet to do something big that the world could remember her for. But on a personal level, I am sure that someone would remember her fondly for something. Did she not care about that?

Ever since I became a father I have become aware of the fragility of life. It is a precious gift and one that can get ended and altered way too quickly for our human souls to deal with. I would not want to be the father who just found out that his daughter was just killed as she jay walked across a street. I would not want to be the brother, the mother, the sister, the lover of anyone who had this happen. Yet this sort of thing does happen when we don’t pay attention to what is going on around us.

Once becoming a father I also noticed that my own self-worth grew exponentially. Where people would be able to walk all over me before, I found myself saying things like, “You have no right to treat the father of my children that way.” I know it stemmed from a protective aspect of fatherhood, more than a protective instinct for myself. But at least it was a start. It made me begin to pay attention to what is going on around me so that I can be safe and know that at the end of the day, I am still here for my children.

So when I die I would like to be remembered. I would like people to remember me as a man with a huge heart. I would like to be the guy who stayed true to himself, even if it was against what society thought to be acceptable. I would like to be the guy who loved more deeply than anyone thought possible. I would like people to remember me as the man who voiced and acted with compassion. I don’t want to be worshipped. I don’t want people to blather on about how wonderful I was if I really wasn’t. We’ve all been to a funeral or two like that and looked around, wondering if we were at the right event. I just want to not be forgotten by those close to me and by those whose lives I have had a positive effect upon.

Don’t worry. I am not planning on exiting stage left any time soon. I am just aware that we never know when that truck comes around the corner just as we step off the curb.

Blessed Be

Trent
www.deerhornshamanic.com