Changes!!!!

Been a while since I last blogged. About three months. The last time I blogged I had just arrived in NYC, was contimplating the rest of my life and did not like what I saw. I had left Pecos, left New Mexico and left the only woman I had ever loved. You see, l lied to her, lied to Jennifer and it cost me everything. We broke up, broke up and spent 2 months breaking up. It was painful, it was hard and it was destined to become ugly. We couldn't stop seeing each other and we couldn't let go. Kind of like limbo. That's why I left. I wanted Jennifer to have the space to get on with her life and knew that being so close to her I would never be able to give her that space..... and I knew that in order to get over her I had to give myself space, 2000 miles of it. I cried the whole way home. Cried and shook my fist at God. "why did you introduce me to her and then allow me to ruin it?". Of course God didn't answer, nor did he wreck our relationship. I did that all by myself.

So, once in New York I tried to busy myself, tried to get her off of my mind. Tried to meet new people, make new friends. I tried to act as if, to get on with my life and pretend that all was well. I started trying to erase her from my life. I started deleting things from my computer that reminded me of her. Took all pictures of her, burned them to disk then erased them from my computer. Put all photos of her in a box in the closet. Removed all traces of her from my living area. The last thing was this blog. I deleted the blog. Erased it. Or so I thought. I then sat back satisfied. I had finally rid myself of every reminder I posessed. But I was wrong. Thankfully.

When a relationship ends the TV version is that pictures get tossed, phone numbers get erased, e-mails get deleted and and everyone happily goes on to the next relationship. But in real life it is not so antiseptic, at least not for me. There was one thing I could not erase, could not delete, could not ignore....... and that was my heart. Deep inside my heart there was still a pining, a desire, a want and a need. I had made a decision to get over, to forget but I forgot one thing. The heart wants what the heart wants and my heart wanted Her. I missed her. I missed Jennifer. My Life was like eating ice cream without any flavor. Unsatisfying. I had met the woman of my dreams and could not conveniently put her memory away like an old photo album. But what to do?

I sent her one e-mail. One telling her that I was okay..... sorta. That I was "trying" to get on with my life. Boy was I surprised when she wrote back..... and then a few days later she opened her chat on google and chatted with me. What we found out is that after 2 months we both felt the same way. We missed each other. So we talked, chatted, shared and reconnected. Jennifer agreed to come to NYC to visit for a few days. I was so nervous before she came that I had to drink 2 shots of Vodka to calm my nerves.... and then she was there walking down the Jetway. She looked the same, only better. We hugged, we kissed, we loved, we talked, we saw, we did..... and at the end of three days we were just that much closer, talking about long distance dating until I get off of parole. And then she was gone.

I went on about my life thinking of creative ways to end my parole, planning a trip to Pecos to see Jennifer before she moved to Taos, wondering if she really enjoyed herself in NYC and wondering if she was missing me the way I was missing her. I didn't have to worry long. We talked after her weekend in Taos. It was a Monday, Memorial Day (the date will always be remembered), I was working. Jennifer called me and asked if I was thinking about her. I said yes, I was. She had been on my mind all day. She giggled and said that she had been thinking about me all day..... in Taos and on ther drive home. She told me that she was thinking about how nice it would be if I was there with her. She asked me how quickly I could get transferred to New Mexico. I said probably by early fall. She asked if I wanted to move to Taos and live with her. I think she knew what my answer would be.

There are those who do not believe in miracles, who do not believe in fate, who do not believe that there is a perfect match for them and who do not believe in love. True Love. I should know. I was one of them..... but no longer am. A miracle happened to me last year. I met this amazing woman. But God and Goddess do not make things that easy for us. We, as in Jennifer and I, we had to work at it, to prove to ourselves, each other and those close to us that what we have is the most precious gift there is next to giving birth..... and hopefully we will have that gift too. She is my perfect match. We are like bookends, Jennifer and me. Neither of us is a perfect person..... but we are perfect for each other. Fate brought us together..... and love has melded us into what we are now. We are now a we. Me, Jennifer, Bella, Us. Babbies too. I have been blessed beyond all hope and reason. God and Goddess has seen fit to let this amazing woman love me and I will never again squander that love.

Jennifer, I love you, want to spend the rest of my life loving you, want to give you all the Babbies you want, want to make you as happy as you make me. Thank you for trusting and believing.

Te Adoro


Marcos

Empty.....

It's been a while since..... I wrote, shared, spoke, felt, lived, cried, laughed, smiled, was happy, was sad, cared, worked, played, walked, ran, hoped, prayed, planned.....

I left New Mexico almost a month ago and have not felt "normal" since. I have felt lost, alone, scared, angry..... empty. I came to New York hoping to put my past behind me, hoping to heal. I ran to New York City looking outward for something that can only come from within. I crawled to New York City a failure leaving behind the life I always wanted but could not handle.

So here I sit.... all alone.... in a room that feels just like the jail cell I sat in for so many years. I used to hope, to pray, to plan and to dream. I had dreams, visions, aspirations.... now I have only myself.... and only myself to blame for the failure that is my life.

Can I turn it all around? Can I get back on a solid path? Can I rise above? Of course. I am strong, a true survivor. The real question is do I want to.....

Daydreaming....

I was sitting at my desk in santa Fe this morning, easing my way in to the day by putting my legs up on the desk and slowly sipping my coffee. The early morning sun was intense, as it usually is at this altitude. The sun was starting to peek over the roof, spilling in my office through dirt streaked windows. The light peirced the window and came right through my office, illuminating all the microscopic dirt and dust in the air. It was magical watching the swirling dust motes having their moment in the sun. The sun continued to rise until it passed that point where it no longer streamed through my window and the show was over. It was like all that dust left for the time being, awaiting the sun's return..... but we all know that the dust motes are still there, floating aimlessly with the currents awaiting a purpose, awaiting their moment in the sun.

Sometimes my life is like that. Sometimes I, too feel like I'm drifting with the currents, unnoticed, unwanted and unappreciated.... just waiting, waiting and wondering when I will once again will be illuminated, noticed, valued, wanted. I wonder where my light is and I wonder if I will ever have another moment in the sun.

What have I done.....

I am leaving New Mexico. It is now official. My last day here will be February 23rd., a Monday. By Thursday morning I'll be in New York City. By Friday I'll be at Parole trying to appeal the decision to keep my parole going for another year at least. Maybe i'll be successful, maybe not but I do know one thing.... I already lost everything, everything that was important to me. I know, I have my freedom, I have my health, I have family and I have Elmo but it all seems empty, hollow, unimportant without her in my life. I will probably spend the rest of my life wondering what could have.... and what should have been. She was and still is the only woman I have ever loved unconditionally, the only one who takes my breath away when I see her, the only one that makes me fumble like a little schoolboy, the only one who makes my heart skip a beat, the only one who's touch ignites me and the one woman who always treated me with care, compassion and love.

On February 23rd, 2009 I will drive away from the woman I love..... and drive towards a future without her snile, her laugh, her touch. I am heartbroken.

Intolerance

I used to be a very opinionated man. I had opinions and ideas that were set in granite. No one could sway me from my beliefs. What usually goes hand in hand with this type of rigidity is intolerance, and boy was I intolerant. I was not always like that. I grew up being this hippy dippy, carefree, accepting and non critical guy just happy to be a part of this world. Living in the 'burbs, raising a family on Long Island I slowly morphed into this rigid, opinionated man, mad at the tolerant world..... but in reality mad at myself for becoming what was anathama to me.

And no, I am not blaming the 'burbs or it's inhabitants. The problem was and still is me. I didn't know who I was, had no moral foundation so I was ripe for indoctrination. I was confused, unhappy with my life and needed someone or something to blame. And of course the easiest people to blame are the weakest, the most defenseless... the people who need the most help, kindness and understanding are always the easiest to target.

So, for me it was the liberals, the gays, the punks, the criminals, the misguided youth..... anyone who was different than me..... and any religion that was not Christian. Of course Certain Jews were exempt.... like my wife, father in law, my children.... exceptions to the rule. The reason why the world was such a messed up place was because two men were having sex in privacy of their own home, gays could adopt, kids were sporting red, spiky hair and so on. I was like a sponge and absorbed everybodies hateful and hurtful opinions.

Of course my reality check came in the form of a 12 year sentence for armed robbery. All of a sudden I was who and what I despised. I was on the fringe. I was an enemy of society. And it got worse. I entered prison and was no longer the white guy at the top of the food change. In the blink of an eye I went from being part of the 83% majority to the 21% minority. It was a shocking, scary and humbling lesson but one I sorely needed. Perceptions. Tolerance. Reality. Opinions. All changd for me during those humbling years.

Zoom to yesterday. I went to a "home church" last night. Sounded like a nice idea. Grass roots religion.... like at the beginning. People getting together, sharing food, sharing song, sharing fellowship, sharing love. And that was how it started. Lots of warm welcomes, a pot luck dinner (I supplied some primo home-baked cornbread), song and prayer. Then something funny happened. The nights "leader" or "home pastor" started talking about social causes, about tithing, about upcoming events. Reasonable but I was wanting to talk about the bible, Jesus, love. Then the pastor went somewhere else, somewhere dark, somewhere from my past. He started taking about the gays, the muslims, abortions, young people with orang hair and strange piercings. He started talking about people who were different than "us", people who were on the fringe, people whose rights in this society get constantly trampled, people who need our love and support, not our disgust.

These people were what was and is wrong with our society was the underlying message. These people are keeping us from spreading the word, these people have no place in a Christian Democracy. Christian Democracy? I thought we were a home church, not a political action committee. And by the way isn't there a little thing called separation of church and state. Furthermore, isn't it tghis type of narrow thought that creates fundemental states like Iran and before that Afganistan where narrow minded men created such organizations as the Taliban? Hmm...

To me the message was poison. A message not of love and understanding but one of intolerence and hate. Now I'm the first guy who will say "I may not support your opinion but I support your right to have it.... and air it out" but that does not mean I have to be a part of it. Furthermore, I know from past experience how easy it would be for me to join them, to pick up the banner of intolerance and once again blame those who need our love most for all the problems in my life. I would slip it on like and old shoe. I may not know much but I do kn ow me and do know how easy it is to fall into that type of thinking. I know about the power of the group, he circle. How warm a feeling to a part of something, even something so devisive. So, instead of surrendering to the warm embrace of the group I left early to go home and tend to my new puppy and to pray for that group.... to ask God to help them see the truth, to bring them in to the light of love, acceptance, forgiveness and tolerance. To help them see that to be tolerant, accepting and inclusive is to be part of the solution and not part of the problem.

It is a bright, sunny Sunday. Gods day.... although every day is His day. As I type out this thought, this rambling I feel a comforting warmth spreading through my body. It is the warmth that comes when I know I am once again on the right path, that I prayed for instead of condemning, that I loved and did not hate. I always hear the saying "God works in mysterious ways" but these ways are becoming less and less mysterious as time passes. I think what God wants for all of us is to love one another, love ourselves, share our toys, take an afternoon nap, hold hand crossing the street, eat our milk and cookies and to give thanks to Him for this wonerous miracle called life that each one of us has been blessed with.

Aman Bothers and Sisters.

Reality Check.... Part 2

It would appear that my reality has changed somewhat since the last time I checked. My game face has been put away for the time being, my feelings are now on hold. This new responsibility is what now motivates me. elmo is my new best friend, my partner and my travelling companion. We have a lot of places to go Elmo and me. A lot of sights to see. A lot of road to cover.... I hope he knows how to drive a stick.

My New Love.....

Sometimes the only way to heal is to find another who needs our love and support. Sometimes we just need to get outside of ourselves, to take the focus off of our pain and put it on someone who is more needy, more helpless and who needs more love to survive.

I have been given the privilege of raising this orphan, this little ball of fur and teeth. I have been given the job of loving this little creature...of caring for him and giving him what he needs to survive. I have a funny feeling that he will give back to me so much more, so very much more.

Reality Check (again)

Reality. Sometimes I love the word, the place. Sometimes I would much rather exist in a fantasy world of my own creation where everything goes right and dreams always come true. A place where effort is always rewarded and no good deed ever gets punished. Of course that's not the reality many of us are used to.

My reality. It seems that the harder I try to do the right thing, the more effort I put in to increase my contact with God, the more I believe that I am on the right path the worse my situation becomes and the harder it becomes to achieve any of my dreams. I sometimes wonder if this is a test, an obstacle I must overcome to get to where i want to be. Does God do such things like testing our resolve, our determination, our faith.... Because mine has once again been sorely tested and I am ready to run, to chuck it all in, to say "uncle", to give up.

I don't want to quit, to give up, to lose faith but I am only human, only an imperfect man and I can only take so much bad news until it starts to affect my spirit, my faith, my beliefs and my soul. I tried to love and was denied. I tried to plan and was foiled. I tried to dream and was reminded that dreams are only that, dreams. I tried to believe but was informed that believing is not an option for everyone. Finally, I tried to run but was even denied the cowards way out.

Now, once again I am left alone with my sorrow and pain. I feel like a failure for even presuming to believe that something good could come my way. Time to rebuild that wall. Time to stop feeling and start doing. Time to make it all about me. Time to be who and what I really am. Time to prove all of my detractors right... more right than even they know. Time to stop playing and start taking. Time to step in to the dark. Time to dry the eyes, wipe the nose and put on my game face.... the one I know so very well.

To be continued......

Self Awareness 101

This morning a dear friend gave me a lesson in self awareness. The lesson started with a painful reminder of a recent behavior I exhibited that in retrospect I am ashamed of. The lesson then continued to my lack of faith, my lack of commitment to change and my lack of growth. The lesson finished with a smattering of "being a crybaby" to poor me's" and the ever popular "stop trying and start doing". Yes, a tough morning for our author.

But what was really tough about it is that everything she said was and is true. She once again hit the nail right on the head. She held no punches and called it exactly as she saw it.... and it hurt. Hurt a lot. But pain serves a purpose. Pain tells us that there is something wrong and we need to take care of it. Pain tells us that we need to get a check up. See a doctor. Get some rest. This pain told me that I needed to look within. That I needed to look at my motives, my dedication to change and how I treat others. This pain told me that if I really want to grow I was going to have to look within.

It's a hard thing to look in the mirror and be completely honest about what we see. That is why we have friends. People we trust to give it to us raw. Not because they want to hurt us but because they love us. The truth hurts..... but living a fantasy hurt more in the long run. Step in to the light for the truth shall set us all free.

On the road again.....

I am on parole. I have been on parole in two different states, New York and new Mexico. Just so we get it straight I put myself on parole by committing crimes and going to jail. There, I said it. I accept responsibility for my actions. That being said parole sucks. Fact of life. I used to facilitate various groups in and out of prison. My favorite group was in a 200 bed Mens Shelter in New York City where half the population was on parole. You see, to be released from prison one must have an address to go to. In NY State if you do not have a place to go they will parole you to a shelter. Hey, beats the alternative.

So, the group consisted of 20-25 men, half on parole and about half of those I knew or knew of from prison. Fun times. So my job was to convince these ex cons to look at parole not as an oppresion but as a challenge. Challenge yourself to prove to parole, the courts, the cops and society that you can and will become a contributing, law abiding citizen. I actually do believe that by the way. Look at it as a challenge. But it still sucks. The unfortunate reality though is that about 80% eventually go back to prison or an early grave.

So what was I talking about? Oh yeah, the road. I love travelling although I haven't been able to really spread my wings in some time. I also love to drive and my truck is a pleasure to drive long distances. I want/need to head back to NYC.... for a variety of reasons, especially that I can get my parole ended early in NY and then really be free to travel. Ahh yes, travel. The whole point to this blog.

I want to travel. I want to take this summer off, put my dirt bike and bicycle on the back of my truck and go. Go where? wherever.... through Pennsylvania, Virginia, Oklahoma, Texas.... maybe stop in New Mexico then on to Mexico. Doing what? looking, seeing, feeling, breathing, experiencing, being. I may not make it to all of these place but I'll certainly give it a try. What am I really doing? I'm looking for a place to hang my hat, to call my own. I want to travel but I also want to put down roots. I also want to be a part of something good. Something new.

A friend of mine is talking about an eco village where like minded Christians can natural build, worship, do for, help, assist, live in peace and so much more. I like her idea. I like the idea of a village, a space, a place where people can feel comfortable to be themselves. I like the idea of helping build such a place. Maybe I could even build my own little house for when I am in the area. Of course this may never happen but It is a great idea and a great start.

My parole is almost over. I can finally put all of this behind me. I can finally start planning the rest of my life.... or not. I think i'll just let my life be for now. I think i'll just put one foot in front of the other and see where my feets lead me. I think that i'll stop thinking so much for a while and start feeling. I think that i'll once again look at my glass as half full. I think that i'll start being happy for the things I do have and not what I do not. I think I'll start being once again grateful for the sunrise.. the sunset.. the moon.. the clouds.. good friends.. good food.. good herb (once i'm off parole).. curvy roads.. thick forests.. tall mountains.. clear streams.. big waves.. warm sand.. cool breezes....... and so on.....

May you find your curvy road.

Being Released... Part 2

Elmira, New York. An economically depressed town in NorthWestern NY State. The one good industry in Elmira, one that is not in any danger of failing is Prison of which they have 4 in the immediate area. And of course I was a big supporter of that industry by putting myself in prison for 12 years. All of this came to me while standing on the sidewalk in front of the bus station. Of course I was at a total loss as to what to do. Finally, I figured that the best thing to do was to exchange my voucher for a bus ticket. As I walked in to the sation I felt like everyone was watching me, knowing me for who and what I was. Of course that was rediculous but I felt very self concious nonetheless.

I managed to get my ticket without incident, although the ticket agent gave me a knowing smile after seeing the voucher. No mistaking what the voucher was. I went outside and waited for the bus which arrived on time. I got on the bus and luckily it was only about 1/3 full. The ride home took about 4 hours and the ride itself was uneventful. Even my wandering mind was quiet. I was was excited though. I hadn't seen NY since 1993 and lots had changed... 9/11, 42nd. Street clean up, the Hudson River park, taller buildings, cleaner and safer streets. I couldn't wait and at the same time was nervous to get off of the bus.

The bus pulled into Port Authority at 42nd. Street and my moment of truth had arrived. I stepped from the bus, walked through the terminal and exited on to the street. I had arrived, I was home. I felt like an explorer seeing something I had dreamed about for the first time. It was amazing. A big smile appeared on my face and a pronounced spring appeared in my step. At that moment for the first time in 12 years I felt free and it was a sweet feeling indeed.

There are moments in each of our lives, defining moments, moments of joy and elation that we need to hang on to. We need to capture that feeling, that joy, that elation, that natural high. I was standing on the corner of 42nd. Street and 9th. avenue, $40 in my pocket and a duffel bag with a few pairs of pants, socks and shirts. I had my prison ID and my release papers. I had a few packs of Marlboros (I smoked back then) and that was it. Nothing else. And yet in spite of, or maybe because of it I felt like I was the richest man in NY because I had something more valuable than all that stuff.... I had my freedom and thats worth more than anything.

On days that I'm feeling needy and a bit down I go back to that time and place to help me rediscover what is really important. What really matters. What life is really all about. Life isn't about a big house or a fast car. Life isn't about a high paying job or a fur coat. Like is not about any of those things. Life is about the simple things, the little ones.... a baby's giggle, a hug, a pat on the back, singing happy birthday, walking in the warm rain, making a snow man. Life is about standing on 42nd. Street with a big old stupid grin on my face and not wanting or needing any more than that. Life is the glass half full and thinking of the possiblilities.

Peace.

Being Released.....Part 1

I had a dream last night. It wasn't a bad dream.... and actually it was a pretty good one. The dream in question took me back to a time in 2005 when I was grateful just to be able to walk down the street. When I felt blessed just to watch the sun rise, to open my door and walk out, to speak whenever and to whoever I wanted. When $40 in my pocket and a duffle bag of 12 year old clothing was living large. When NY City felt like a brand new town to me.

It all came back to me this morning..... April 20, 2005. 11 pm. B block, 21 cell. "Lock in, lights out". The last time I was going to hear those words. My cell door slowly closed with a squeal and a loud clang. Locked in. Safe. I made it. The next time these bars open I'll be walking to the draft room to put on my new street clothes my Mom sent. Then to ID. for a new picture so the Parole Officer in NYC will recognize me. Finally, the long walk down the tunnel to the gate where I sign my release papers, get my $40 release money and a bus ticket home. In the old days they promised slaves $40 and a mule. For released cons it's $40 and a bus ticket.

Funny, every con knows the release procedures. Every con, whether in for 5 years or forever fantasizes about taking that long walk to the front gate.... and then having it open. We all imagine what it's going to feel like, what we are going to say to the guards on the way out, what that sweet free air is going to taste like but to actually do it. For it to actually happen to you..to me. I was not prepared for the moment. It came and went.

at 6:45am. April 21, 2005 my gate opened for the last time. Mine was the only gate that opened. They allowed the soon to be released con a one time safe passage to draft by leaving all the other cons locked in while I passed lest a jealous one try to stick something sharp in me. Yes, these things happen. "Mocha, Draft"!!! No good luck, no see ya around. It was as if the guard was jealous that I was leaving and he had to stay. Go figure. I started down the corridor as if in a daze. Everything went as planned and before I knew it I was standing in front of the prison waiting for a ride to the bus station. Outside. Without shackles. A completely new perspective.

The driver, a State employee, pulled the van to the curb, opened the door and said "get in". We drove to town in silence, he driving and me looking out of the window wide eyed, my heart pounding and my hands shaking. "So this is what freedom looks like" I thought. Actually, I didn't know what to think. It was all so new to me. It was wonderous, joyous, terrifying. The driver only spoke 4 words to me the whole 20 minute trip.... and he spoke the last two as he pulled up to the Elmira bus station. "Get out" he barked. And so I did. And then he pulled away leaving a very nervous and shaky ex-con standing on the sidewalk all by himself for the first time in so very long.

....more to come....

The Early Bird....

I get up early. 5am. and i'm ready to go. And it doesn't matter what time I go to sleep. I think the latest i slept in last year was 7:30 and only because against better judgement I tried mushrooms for the first time in who knows how many years. I really don't do drugs anymore, certainly not street drugs but I never really considered mushrooms to be drugs, just a kinda interesting chemical that can sometimes open doorways in my mind. Of course it didn't happen this time, just lots of laughing and a weird feeling in the morning. Hmm...

Where was I? Oh, waking up. I like the early morning. It is my favorite time of day. When I lived on Long Island I did lots of surf fishing and during the summer and fall I would see the sunrise from the beach at least 2 times a week. It was a very spiritual thing for me, seeing the sun come up over the ocean. I would stop whatever I was doing for a few minutes just to watch. Of course so did most of the wildlife. Creatures that were safe in the dark all of a sudden realized that the jig was up and it was time to hide for the day. Other creatures that needed light to hunt appeared as if out of thin air. It was and is a magical time. Even in the desert. Outside my window the coyotes are announcing that morning is coming with their sadly sweet howling. Rabbits are scurrying for cover after a night of feeding... and being fed on. The sun is slowly peeking over the snowcapped mountains, reflecting off of the ice and creating all kinds of colors and shadows on the canyon walls. How beautiful. How special.

Even in prison I was an early riser. 5am. And even in such an ugly, violent and hostile place there was beauty to be found. In Attica the sun would come up over the wall and hity the cell blocks causing a rainbow of colors to appear through the windows which for a breif moment would enter my cell. It was the only time of day that the sun would actually enter the cell block and I would bask in it like a cat on a warm floor. For that one moment the walls would come down and the miracle that is this world would enter.

In Woodbourne the sun would come over the Shawangunk Mountains and spread across the prison farm, across the hay fields, the corn fields, the vegetable fields illuminating them and illuminating the late night visitors... white tail deer, possums, woodchucks, rabbits and even the occasional brown bear. For that moment I was no longer in jail. I would sit by my window and imagine that I was looking out from my kitchen window, getting ready to do my chores but giving my four legged friends a chance to fill their bellies.

Did you see the movie "bucket list"? A bucket list is a list of things you want to do before you die. In prison we used to have just the opposite. Things you want to do when you start living again as a free man. Kind of an anti bucket list. Guys would talk about getting a car, a woman, clothes, new jordans, getting paid, getting revenge... and so on. Number one on my list was getting up before dawn, opening my door without having to ask, walking down to Riverside Park, sitting on a rock by the Hudson River and watching the sun rise. And I did it. On April 22nd. 2005 I saw the sun rise again. And the next day... and the next day....

To me, life is like that. Life is like the morning. It happens every day but so many people miss it, miss the beauty and the majesty. Miss the wonder of it all. We get so wrapped up in our problems, our wants and our needs that we miss what is really important, what really matters. Now i'm not saying that seeing the sun rise is more important than family, work, health or any other daily activity. What i'm saying is that if we just take that moment in every day to look at, to get out of ourselves, to appreciate, to witness, to see, to feel, to experience something as amazing as the sun rising I think it makes the day just a little bit brighter.

What is your sunrise? Is it looking in the crib and watching your baby sleep? Is it sitting by the window and watching a spider weave a web? Is it watching hummingbirds feed early in the morning? Is it laying on your back in a field of grass and watching the clouds go by? Is it appreciating a really good painting or photograph? Is it......

Have a blessed day.

It's a Heartache, Nothing but a Heartache...

Ahh, the 80's. Good old Bonnie Tyler. That song still gives me shivers and can bring a tear to my eye. Heartache. I have had lots of heartaches and heartbreaks in my life. Caused a few too for sure. My favorite song used to be "I am a rock" by Simon and Garfunkel but times have changed and I have grown. Sometimes I wish I could go back to being that "rock", that "island" that was me where I touched nothing and nothing and nobody ever touched me. But, as they say "can't put the toothpaste back in the tube". Actually, you can... but do you want to? That is the question.

I loved. I still love but the object of my affection does not love me anymore. What do I do? Do I persist knowing that it is futile? Do I accuse knowing that it is her love to give, not mine to take? Do I bargain with her... I'll give you anything you want if you will just love me". Do I bargain with God... "please make her love me because I am so good to her and for her". Or do I do the right thing, the just thing, the loving thing. Just let her go.

Just let her go. How do I do that? How do I walk away from the most amazing woman I ever met, the woman I dreamed about, pined for, fell in love with, fought for, won over and then lost. How do I do that, please tell me because I do not know. I have come a long way since 2000 and my release in 2005, learned plenty about myself along the way, had all kinds of experiences, both good and bad but have never had to deal with this kind of heartache.

I spoke with her last night.... could hear in her voice that she wanted space/distance, could hear in her voice the hollow words, the words that said "goodbye", could hear her accounting for the rest of her week so as not to leave a gap where I could infiltrate her life. I could imagine her worried that I would try to convince her to see me, to hang out, watch a movie, play a game... anything just to be with her one last time. How very, very sad.

It is time for me to grow up and face the truth. The truth being that in order for me to grow I must let go of that which is not mine. Jennifer is her own person... she has a path and a destiny that does not include me. She is now a devoted daughter of God and I need to let her go. That is the right thing to do and that is what I must do.

I will miss her but as life has shown me you never know what's just around the bend or over the hill. I have some travelling to do... me, my truck, my motorcylce and maybe a puppy in the passenger seat. I am almost free from parole and the world can once again be my oyster. Hopefully I am older, a bit wiser and will be more protective of my freedom and have learned something from my past. anyway, with God steering the ship I'm sure we can navigate any stormy sea we encounter.

be Blessed,

Mark

Dream a little dream of me....

I love that song. "......birds singing in the sycamore tree, dream a little dream of me". Mama Cass. What a voice, what a sweet song.... like a dream. Do you dream? Do you remember your dreams? Do you attach any significance to them? Any meaning? Are they windows into our deepest desires and fears, are they omens of what is to come, are they suggestions.. signs of which path to take or are they mearly coincidental mumbo jumbo to be enjoyed, forgotten but not to be taken seriously. Some people believe that the reason we only remember a small portion of our dreams is that they are so horrific our subconcious wont let us for fear of losing our minds.

Over the years I have read all types of books and literature on dreams and dreaming. What I found is that opinions on dreams are like opinions on what to do when confronted by a bear in the woods. Strange comparison? Not so. Pick up any two books on bears and read what the "expert" says to do when confronted. One will say "make noise". The other will say "be silent". One will say "run", the other "lay down and cover your head". One will say..... and on and on. The real truth about bears is that they are wild animals and by nature unpredictable. we can study bears and get an idea of how they might behave in a certain situation but at the end of the day there is no guarantee at all. They are likly to react in almost any way possible. Just ask the bearman. The guy who was a "foremost expert" on Brown Bears. Studied them, lived with them, protected them ..... and in the end was eaten by them.

What were we talking about? Oh yeah, dreams. I think that when it comes to dreams everyone and no one is right.... or wrong. I think some are fanciful and some are desires. Some are wishes and some are memories of past events. Some are hopes and some are fears. I also do think that some could be omens and some could be put there by He that watches over us. How do we decide... how do we know which ones are beneficial.... an omen or a direction to take and which ones are just our imaginations at work. What works for me is to find a quiet time during the day... or night, clear my mind of as much static as possible, let go and let my spirit fill with love... love for me, love for others, love for God .... and then turn it over to God. Let Him tell me what are His wishes and what are not. If I pray with an open mind, an open heart and without fear, jealousy, desire and hate the answer will come. If I am doing all of the things God wants me to do then I already know the answer for it was already in me.

We all know.... we are all born with a clean slate. Hopefully as we grow we are nurtured, taught by loving parents and/or guardians the difference between right and wrong. The lessons are really simple... anyone can learn them. thou shalt not.... and do unto others.... and so on. But as we grow older some of us forget... or in my case decide which do, and do not apply to me. When it comes to justification nobody was better than me. I can make just about anything sound like a good idea. During those dark days I had bad dreams, torturous ones. I had one re-occuring dream while in prison. I would dream that the whole time in prison had been a dream and then wake up in my dream to find it was only a dream. That I was in prison and at the beginning to boot. Weird but quite disturbing.

I don't have dreams like that anymore. My dreams are usually of things I want to or hope to do. Dreams of mountain lakes and deep forests. Dreams of doggies and children. Dreams of faraway places and open spaces. Dreams cooking meals and making fires.... of belief and faith.... of love and happiness.... of being whole and being loved. Dreams that make my heart swell, my spirit soar and open my mind to the possiblities of this life and the love from and of Him.

Have a blessed day,

Mark

...was lost but now am found.

I am a licensed Substance Abuse Counselor in the State of New York. I went to school on the government dime and did not for a minute feel guilty about getting a free education. When I was in high school and my first attempt at college I never sat in the front, never engaged, was stoned most of the time and missed about half my classes. It still amazes me that I actually graduated high school.

This time around it was different. I sat in the front, always participated, asked so many questions some instructors would purposely ignore me, always showed up early and left late. I loved learning, embraced it, reveled in my new found knowledge. I felt like every scrap of information might have relevance at some point in my career so I missed nothing.... or so I thought.

Actually, I missed nothing. What I did was avoid looking at myself and see if anything I was learning applied to me. Kinda like reading a self help book but skipping the one chapter that applied to you. Hmm...

So, flash forward to the here and now. Why am I so emotionally stunted? Why do I struggle with my feelings? Why do I have a hard time with relationships? Why do I act like a teenager from time to time? Um, because in emotional age I still am?

How's that? In the world of substance abuse it is believed that addicts stop growing emotionally when they start using or exhibit addictive behavior/personality. I am not an addict in the traditional sense but I did and to a certain extent still have an addictive personality. I have know this for a while but never put two and two together.

I now know why I am emotionally stunted. Why I struggle with relationships. Why I find it so hard to put my feelings into words. Why I speak before I think. But all is not lost. Knowing is half the battle and I know. So what am I to do about it? I think talking about it helps. Informing a significant other is good too. Therapy could also help. But there is one other thing I can do and I did it that very morning. Yes, go to church. Surround myself with people who only have my best interest at heart. Talk about it. work on having healthy relationships. Read about it. Oh, one more thing. Turn it over to God. Yes, let go and let God. There is an old saying that goes like this, " don't tell God how big your problems are, tell your problems how big your God is".

I kinda like that. Turn it over. Let go of it. I have a lot of things, a lot of character defects that I am ready or almost ready to turn over... to let go of. I hope God is ready.... But I know He is.

Have a peaceful night,

Mark

Love is....

There is an old Eric Clapton song called "why does love got to be so sad". A good question. I was married, have three children, been in 2 other "long term" relationships but never really understood love, or felt love until 7 months ago when I met Jennifer. Meeting her was like a dream for me. I was sure that I knew her from a previous life, that I had dreamed of her while in prison.

At first I couldn't handle what I was feeling, didn't understand what I was going through but over time with the help of Jennifer I was able to get control of my emotions and start a relationship with her. What I came to realize over time was that I never really knew what it was like to be in love, to love another and accept their love. That is what overwhelmed me. Ne feelings, new emotions.

We went out, went steady, got engaged, moved in and then after Thanksgiving broke up. The reason for the breakup was my inability to be completely honest and I lost her trust. The pain I felt from that breakup was unlike anything I have ever felt. I was devastated. I was crushed. I was lost. And in my darkest hour it was the person I had hurt who brought me in to the light of God. It was Jennifer who showed me that I was not alone and that I could not only recover but grow.

Throughout this process Jennifer has been there for me, offering suggestions, kind words and sweet smiles. It was with her that I bought my first Bible. It was with her that I found a Church I could be me in. It was with her that I found the strength to start writing this blog. I owe a lot to Jennifer, more that I could ever repay.

But I still love her.... love her like no other. I want to be with her, want to share my life with her, want to walk this path with her. Unfortunately it is not only my decision to make. It takes 2 to make a couple and Jennifer is not sure. This morning I walked away from her saying that I could not take being just friends anymore. That I was confused, that I was hurt and that I was in pain. Me, me, me, me, me. I never really considered her struggle. So now I sit at my desk and try to find the words to say to her to allow me to stay in her life in whatever capacity. For a moment I forgot what I had learned, the definition of love that she had taught me.

Real love is unconditional and completely selfless. Real love is giving, doing or feeling for another without expecting anything in return. Real love is putting that persons needs ahead of your own. Real love is work. Real love starts and ends with friendship. Real love is an unmistakeable feeling of joy and happiness. Real love is God's gift to us and hope for us.

I hope you find love,

Mark

Awakenings

My father was a soldier in WW2. He was Polish, fought the Nazis when they invaded his country, spent a year in a prison camp, escaped to England then fought in Africa, Italy and Central Europe. The interesting thing about that is we could never get a war story from him, and most vets that I know rarely if ever tell stories. Why? Because war is not a book or movie. War is brutal, scary, ugly. You see and do things no human should have to and when over all most want to do is thank God they survived and get on with their lives.

Prison is similar. And no, I am not comparing prisoners to solidiers, merely comparing the feelings involved. In prison ones sees and sometimes does things no human should have to see and do. When released most want to forget the whole ordeal, thank God they survived and get on with their lives. I almost never tell prison stories. First, I am not proud that I was in prison so I don't want to glorify the experience. Secondly, for my own sanity I need to let go of most of those experiences.

That being said I will relate one story because it was a turning point in my life and is connected to what happened yesterday.

When I went to Prison in 1993 I was a mess. I did not care about myself or anyone else and really never expected to ever be released. I truly thought that I would spend the rest of my life in jail. So, I went to prison with the "I just don't care" attitude. For the first 7 years I isolated myself from the outside world, fought constantly, did drugs and was disrespectful to the staff and the officers. During those 7 years I spent about half of it in Solitary, or "the box".

Prison is a place where they put people who for whatever reason fail to abide by the laws of the land. Solitary is where they put prisoners who for whatever reason fail to abide by corrections law and that's how far down the scale I had fallen. I couldn't even follow the rules in prison.

In July of 2000 I tested positive for opiates and was once again sitting shackled in the disciplinary office in front of the Captain. He was reading my file and my prison record. Finally he put it all down and looked at me. He said "i just don't understand you. You have a file full of letters from family and friends, good people, attesting to your fine character. If you stayed out of trouble you could be out in 5 years. You are smart, educated, have your health... you have more going for you than most but at the rate you are going we will one day find you stabbed in the yard or dead from an overdose in your cell. If you don't care about yourself at least care about the people who love you".

The Captain finished the hearing and gave me 100 day in the box. 90 days for drug use and 10 days for "being a jerk off". Seriously. After the hearing they usually lead you through the yard to the segragated housing unit and the convict does the "perp walk" where he holds his head up and smiles like it's no big deal only this time I couldn't. The Captains words had stung my like a whip and it to my all not to start crying as I walked across the yard.

They brought me in, stripped me, hosed me down, gave me a jumpsuit and led me to my home for the next 100 days. They shut the door and left. The cell was in the basement so there were no windows, no vents, no outside noise at all. I felt like I was in a tupperware container and might as well have been on Mars, that's how removed from society I was. I started thinking about what the Captain had said and for the first time in 7 years started thinking about my family, my friends, my children. I thought about the fun we used to have, thought about all the special days I missed in the last 7 years and then started thinking about all the things I would never see.... the graduations, weddings, births, parties, holidays, vacations..... and it was too much for me to bear. My legs buckled and I fell to the floor.

I thought about who I was and how I came to be here. I thought about my life and realized that I only had one in body for I was emotionally and spiritually bankrupt. I did not know how to live and just couldn't die. And so I started crying. I didn't want to die in this dungeon. I wanted to see my family and friends again. I wanted to one day be free. Iwanted to live.... so I did the only thing I could think of. I got on my knees and prayed. I believe in God but had never really been a religious person since childhood but for some reason I knew what to say. I did not ask God to transport me to Canada, did not ask for a pardon, didn't even ask to go back in time. All I asked for was the strength to get through this and to teach me how to live.

Almost immediately I felt better, lighter.... like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders so I did the next thing I could think of and started confessing every wrong I had ever committed right down to wrong thinking. With each admission I felt more weight coming off and hours later when I was done I did not feel tired, I felt alive.

The next day when the officer came around I asked for paper and pencil. I sat down and wrote all the people I had cut out of my life. When the Chaplain came around I asked for a bible and started reading. Over the next 98 days I recieved letters from almost everyone I wrote, all with a similiar message.... Thank God you are alright and when can we visit.

The remaining time breezed by and when I was released from solitary I did not go to the gym to play ball, I did not go to my cell to sleep and I did not go to the yard for drugs. I went to the chapel where I spent the next 5 years until released and in that time I did not get one single infraction.

Why the prison story? Beacause when I was released I slowly drifted away from God, from the church, from what saved me. The last 3+ years of my life I thrashed about looking for something, anything. I went to school, worked, moved, fell in and out of two realtionships but still there was something missing in my life..... until yesterday.

Yesterday I went with my ex to a new church in Albuquerque, 70 miles away. Why? Because we both have been looking for a place where we and all peoples would be welcome. An unpretentious church with a good message and we almost didn't make it. I had the wrong directions and we stopped along the way to look at a shiny glass church. Funny, it was almost like a test to see if we could make it.

When we got to this church services were being held in a school gymnasium. The minute we walked in we were greeted and felt welcomed. The crowd was a mixture of young and older with lots of babies. The pastor was in jeans and a sweater. They played music and did skits. It was great and when a friend of the pastors gave his sermon it felt like every word was directed at me. I sat and stood, sang and prayed with tears rolling down my cheeks. I didn't feel kike I had to hide them , didn't feel embarassed, didn't feel judged, only loved and at the end of the service we knew where we would be next Sunday.

The connection? The feelings I had yesterday in church were the same feelings I had in the box 8+ years ago. I felt that once again the weight on my shoulders had been lifted, that I was free and that I now had direction. I don't know what direction that is only that it is the right direction. I know that I need God in my life. I know that now. I think I have always known that just never really admitted. it. Today I have. Today I have hope. Today I feel alive and awake and it is a wonderful feeling.

Be well and have a great day,

Mark

Gratitude

I never really knew what gratitude was. I always thought that it had something to do with being grateful (pleased) with something that was given to me or done for me. It always had a physical connotation to it for me.... like either a gift, money, sex, a promotion.... something I could see, hold, touch, smell, feel..etc. It never occured to me that gratitude could be a thought, a feeling, a state of being.

This morning I am going to Church with my ex fiance. We are driving down to Albuquerque to go to a new Church, a progessive one, an all inclusive one. We are going together. My ex has been instrumental in my returning to the Church. She saw something in me that I myself did not. She helped me see through the dark and helped me step in to the light. Through all of our ups and downs, our engagement and breakup she has remained a friend, my best friend. She prays for me and with me and wants nothing more than for me to heal, to grow and to become the kind of person she knows I really am. She wants me to believe in me.

We will drive to Albuquerque together, go to church together, have lunch, poke around the big city, come home and then go our separate ways..... buy I will take a small piece of her with me, in my heart and in my soul. It will always be there for she has taught me so very much, especially the true meaning of the word gratitude.

Have a blessed Sunday.

Mark

Snowy Day

It's nice to take a day off..... just go outside and let the inner kid out to play for a while. That's just what I did. And you know what? It not only felt good but felt right. Go ahead, let your inner kid out for a while.

Have a great day

The real victims.....

There is a saying that goes "when you go to prison you take your family and friends with you". Think about that for a second. Take them with you. Why? And no, they don't actually go.... just in spirit. When someone gets convicted of a crime and goes away the level of shame is almost unbearable. That is why most convicts put on their "game face" where it aint nothing. It has been my experience that only the true sociopath (of which there are surprisingly few) does not care what others think about them and have no shame for what they have done. The rest of us either deal with the shame and guilt or let it consume us from the inside out.
Our families and friends on the other hand did nothing to cause our incareration but still have feelings of responsibility, shame and guilt. They wonder if there had been a sign, or if there was something they could have done, or better yet something they did or did not do that caused or aided in our failure to live within the laws of our society. we as prisoners know exactly what we did. We may blame it on our boss, the wife, the neighbor, the police, the DA, the judge, society....etc. but at night when we are locked up in our cell with only our conscience for company we know that there is no other person to hang the blame on except ourselves. Our families and friends have no such option because at the end of the day most really do not understand what happened and if they don't understand what happened how can they absolve themselves of any responsibility.
I spent a good portion of my incarceration trying to convince my father and mother thay they were good parents and that they were in no way responsible for my perdicament. And believe me, it is hard to convince parents that even at 34 they are not resposible for their childs bad behavior. My poor father died while I was in prison, died thinking there must have been something he did or failed to do that caused me to do what I did.
So, when I talk about shame and guilt this is where most of it comes from. When people talk about victimless crimes take a minute to re-read what I just wrote. many times the victims are the ones we say we love and care about the most. To see the sometimes forgotten victims of crime all one has to do is go to a prison visiting room. It will break your heart.


Peace

Definition of Insanity

Until recently my life always seemed to be a series of incidents and accidents strung together to form the semblence of a life. I stumbled through my youth never really taking anything seriously. Even when I went to college I never applied myself. I fell into a marraige and had three accidental children. Now do not get me wrong, I loved and still love my children, I just don't think I was father material back then. Now, yes. Then, no.

They say that if you do not learn from history it is doomed to repeat itself. There is also a saying that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing expecting a different result. Sometimes.... actually at some point in almost every day I'll pause for a moment and contemplate why I did what I did to wind up in prison for so long. Of course the first question that needs to be answered is what I did. I robbed 9+ banks at gunpoint over a period of 14 months. And no, I did not physically hurt anybody. Mental trauma? Absolutely.

Of course the easy answer to the question is need or greed... or maybe both. Both my wife and I had decent careers at the time so it wasn't need. I didn't covet or hoard the money I stole so it probably wasn't greed either. So, what was it. A friend suggested that I went to prison to get away from my ex. Pretty funny... and sad... and maybe not too far from the truth.

The closest I can come to an explanation is that I was so empty, so totally devoid of any spark, any life, any humanity that I would do almost anything to get out of the life I was in. Why Bank Robberies? Why not. At that point in my life it did not matter what the action was just that it would complete the job I had started and that was to utterly destroy the empty life I was living.

From the start I fully expected to be shot dead coming out of a bank. I did not expect to make it to prison and if I did Idid not think I would ever be released. And I did not care one bit. That was who I was. That was the wonderful life I created. The unfortunate thing is that we do not live in a vacuum, whatever we do affects others we are connected to, like dropping a pebble in a pond and watching the ripples spread. And my ripples spread far and wide.

Today when I look back at who and what I was I pray to God to never become that person again. I pray for the strength to change me. I pray for the people I hurt and pray for their forgiveness. I give thanks for this second chance and ask for the wisdom and strength to one day be able to forgive myself. I am a student of history and keep a keen watch for signs that I am starting to repeat history.... or live out my offered definition of insanity.

Have a blessed day.

Decision making 101

It is a cool day in Santa Fe. bright and cool. Refreshing. Quiet. Peaceful. Something about this type of morning that really helps me get outside of myself, that helps me connect with God. I am staying with a friend in town. I was living outside town in the Pecos Valley but the old me, essences of which still invade and disrupt this new life, ruined a realtionship I was in and almost ruined me. Oh, I take full resposibility for what happened, I just know that the person I was is not the person I am or want to be... yet I am only an imperfect soul who while learning and moving forward still slips from time to time.
I have a lot of decisions to make in the near future. The old me would just dive in, leap before looking. The new me knows that, or belives that I need to take my hands off of the rudder and let God steer this ship. The new me knows that in Gods loving hands I could be no safer. I need to remeber that my best plans cost me 12 years of my life and damaged the lives of friends and family.
This morning I prayed for the strength to be able to stay in the moment and to stop projecting the rest of my life. I prayed for those I love and those I had harmed. I thanked God for providing me this second chance at life and prayed for the gratitude I need to show for the things I do have and not for bitterness over the things I do not have.
The truth is that I have a good life. When I was released from prison in April of 2005 one of my requirements was to attend a parole release support goup. The group met twice a week for 6 months. We started with 15 parolees with various crimes from robbery to murder to drugs. the only omission were sex offenders. They had their own separate group. By the end of the 6 months there were only five of us still attending. 6 had violated or committed new offenses and were back in jail, three were missing and one was dead from a drug overdose. The five of us kept in touch and by the years end two were back in jail which left three.
That was 2 years ago and since then I have lost contact with the other two. Actually, I think I purposely stopped checking so depressing and frightening was the reality. For a long time I knew, knew that it was only a matter of time before I wound up back in prison. Why would I think that? I wasn't doing anything wrong. I felt that way because I really didn't think I deserved this second chance, this new life and truth be told there were times when I missed being locked in my cell with a hot pot, cup of coffee, a radio and a cigarette. It was safe, there were zero resposibilities and everything I needed was within arms length.
Scary thinking, huh? This is the type of thinking that either brings you back to jail or forces you to do whatever you need to do to remain free. Everything legal and moral that is. And so it was with me. These thoughts were the catalyst behind me wanting to make drastic changes in my life. I really did not want to go back, I did not want to fail. I wanted to be free.... or what I perceived as being free. Of course there is another type of freeedom but that is a blog for another day.

Peace and love,

Mark

In the beginning......

Where to begin? Where and how does one start a blog? I am still baffled and amazed by this, by this tool, this technology, this venue. Why am I so amazed, a man who has been around for as long as I have? because up until three and a half years ago I had never seen the internet, never sent or received an e-mail, never googled anything.
Why was I so isolated? Was it self exile? Did I live on an island far from shore? Where was I?
One word.... Prison. And for the record nobody put me in prison, I did that all by myself. This was back in the day when I thought I had all the answers, when I thought I was smart, slick and more deserving than anyone else. This was when I thought I was the captain of my own ship, when I believed in nothing and only cared about myself.
Today I see things differently. It is quite amazing what 12 years in prison can do to shape... or reshape ones beliefs, ones values and ones view of themself. It was, if nothing else a humbling experience.... although for me it was so much more. I would not be where I am now had i not gone through what I went through then. A friend of mine, a man who spent a significant portion of his life in prison, a man who found God, found peace and found serenity told me one day that if changing anything that he went through would mean that he would not be where he was today then he would not change a thing. And so it is with me. To get where I am now meant that I had to go through all of that pain and suffering then. But then again I was not alone. Think of the "footprints" poster. That was and is me.

More to follow, so much more.

Peace, love and joy,

Mark