Tag: story

The Ouch of Life

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

Back in January, right after filming "Bum Fit" for Welcome To Lovejoy, I woke up the following Monday with acute pain in my right knee. Now, that in itself isn't unusual, but it was significantly more painful than I had felt since I injured it playing sports in 8th grade. Of course, being a man I shrugged it off, and just fought through the pain for the day, assuming I could walk it off, and it would get better.

But it didn't get better.

And within a week, the pain had shifted to my hip, and my left knee. Then to my ankles. And after two weeks of ankle pain, my ankles, and feet began to swell, while my wrists, and elbows began to feel a very similar pain. I'm stubborn. Even at this point I hesitated to go to the doctor, but at the urging of my kids, and my girlfriend, and several friends, I relented. A full day of physical exams, blood work, and x-rays revealed nothing.

I continued to experience the pain, but was treating the swelling in my ankles. I decided to go back to seeing a chiropractor regularly. Julie discussed my situation, and mentioned she has seen many similar cases. Some she treated successfully, and others were a bit more challenging. We began twice-a-week sessions to see if we could correct whatever it is that was going on.

I missed about two straight months of going to the gym. I was struggling to get up in the morning due to the pain. Stairs were ugly, but I forced myself to take them at work. Walking was difficult; running nearly impossible. But with Julie's help, I started seeing improvements within a couple of weeks. It's amazing how much better I feel now that vertebrae actually move noticeably better in my neck, and back. Things crack when I move again, which many might not consider a good thing, but it means that I at least have better mobility in the joints. I realized that a while ago, all of that cracking stopped. Things were seizing up. Pressure was building on the nerves of my central nervous system. Small aches, and pains should have been my warning, but I ignored them, and as I usually do, performed through them, regardless of what I needed to do.

I can run again now. It feels so good. I'm back to a semi-normal (normal for me) gym routine, and making progress toward my goals. I put on about ten pounds just from not being able to move well, and now I'm dropping that weight. I have a goal of 30 more.

But with soccer season upon me again, I know I can run with the kids. Things aren't back to the right strength, and endurance yet, but I'm making good progress.

The recognition here needs to be that I cannot ignore a single part of my body as I get older. I especially have to take care of the control centers that manage the whole thing. Back issues, even when they don't seem like back issues, can cause so much grief....

The Gift

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

Inside, Breanna crouched in complete darkness. The box was only big enough for her to crouch, or kneel. The walls only gave her slightly more room than her hips and shoulders required. She felt slightly uncomfortable, and a little foolish. As she attempted to see through the darkness, her vision was greeted with emptiness. Not a single detail could be seen….

Sunrise

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

Swiftly the sun cast a morning glow
First red, then silver and gold, reflecting off the suffocating snow
And the blue that will always follow
Like the blue of her eyes when she gives me that look
The look that says the million things that she can’t bring her lips to allow
Words unspoken
But her eyes
Oh, those eyes
The eyes that make my heart pound like a drum
Eyes that light a fire inside
Eyes that make my spirit feel alive
And I see her eyes, and her smile, everywhere I go
How the sun brings the majesty of our world to life in the morning
She brings my soul to life without warning

And I make her morning tea
Before the sun can even greet me
While she readies herself for the coming day
I dread, I always dread how much time we spend away
Wishing only to spend more time
Limbs entwined
Under soft sheets that keep us warm
And I get to look into those eyes
Sleepy eyes, such sleepy eyes
Consuming my desire
Igniting my fire
As Sunday mornings bless us to remain
The week pulls us from this embrace, when anxieties fuel my pain

But again, I’ll make her morning tea
Our ritual to start the day
Warm, comforting, to remind her in our time away
To remind her of the feelings that guides these words
Feeling within her soul, but words she cannot say
For with each morning, lost from her lips, when she cannot stay

Her scent is left behind
Left in my room, alone in my room, left to remind
While spiders crawl in my mind
Thoughts of everything left behind

Still slowly we move
Through the rapids of the waters we row
Keeping our pasts tightly in tow
While filling our paths with the new seeds that we sow
Can the seeds take root while we slowly navigate such turbulent waters,
Flowing over rock and ridge?
A life that consumes, and suffocates
Like the winter snow
A feeling that we both know
All too well, these feelings we do know
While we navigate the raging waters before us, unsure of where they go

But patience

Patience is the medicine I take
To help in those moments when our fears awake
In those moments when dreams seem possible
But our fears tell us no
When our pasts claw away at our trust
And these soft, clay beginnings quiver and quake
And will wear away
In the raging waters, and suffocating snow
The things we’re more familiar with
The past, the lives, the trials we both know

Then there is the way she looks at me
Often in the quiet of the evening, when we seek refuge from our day apart
On the couch, close and in comfort
With a warm blanket, and mugs of tea, and a dog snoring happily
Relieved to have us both together
On the couch, close and in comfort
In her mind, without complicated thought or judgement
Just the way it should be

And there is the way she looks at me
When I feel her hand seeking mine
Sliding slyly across my arm until she finds
And she tips her head to my shoulder, pulling me just a little closer
Just a little bit closer
Pulling the blanket closer to her chin
Just a little bit closer
And she closes her eyes, worn and weary from the day
And there she will stay
No more time away
Close and in comfort
Until the morning sun again shows me the color of her eyes
In the color of the skies
After I’ve made her tea
And she begins her day
And once again, she will go away
Leaving me with my thoughts, crawling like spiders in my mind
Leaving the words she could not speak
Leaving all this behind

Even in the blue of the skies
In the blue of her eyes
And the song in her heart
Her voice in my ears
The song I long to hear
On nights alone when my mind isn’t clear
And I think more about her cup of tea
And where it might leave me

Counting Time

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

The challenge at times isn't writing, but finding words.

To create something that not only releases the demons from within myself, but exorcises the demons from the few people who read my work and take it seriously. I write primarily as an expression of self; to validate to myself that what I am feeling is real. Part of that validation of course is response from those that read my writing, and relating. Finding out that they have also felt this way, have experienced similar events, and that none of us are alone.

Life takes a lot of turns as we travel our paths. Having someone to travel with in a near symbiosis, sharing the good times and bad, providing mutual support in life, taking ownership of each other's dreams... isn't that the ideal we seek? But an ideal obviously so rarely realized.

In order to find such a partnership, one must open their hearts and minds to others. Unfortunately, that often leads to pain, and heartache. Pain, and heartache lead to closed hearts, and distrust. Closed hearts, and distrusting minds cannot be open to exploring the possibilities of such a symbiosis. Here, these constructs fail. How can you find a partner, even when you put your heart out there if those you seek have closed off their hearts, and are unwilling to trust?

And this is where life leads. You round that next corner on to a new path, and find it strewn with rocks, and debris. You travel this rocky road hoping to make it smoother, but you find that you cannot unless the one you're traveling with helps you clear the way. When they don't you give up, and move on to the next path only to find even more rocks, and debris. It becomes a repeating pattern until you realize that you're so tired of the rocky roads that you're unconsciously laying down your own rocks before you even get to that next path.

Wacky metaphor? Perhaps. It's the way my mind works when I'm looking for words. But can you relate? Have you been down those rocky roads? Have you traveled in the uneven ruts, and mud left by someone who took this path before you? Have you looked at your partner and said, "Pick up your rocks," while you keep leaving more on the path anyway?

How do you clean the slate? How do you empty your heart of the prejudices built on those past experiences, and learn how to trust again? How do you step to the side of the path, examine all the rocks together, and choose to either move them together, or simply travel despite them?

Tough questions, right? If I knew the answer, I would probably be living a much different life right now. Sometimes you can't help how someone else responds to your rocks, or even their own. All you can help is how you respond, but it takes a ton of self-awareness to be able to say, "Yes, these are my rocks. I will move them for you if you help me. If we stumble over one, we can get back up and either be past it, or push it aside, but we don't need to keep tripping over the same rocks over and over again."

Slow your travel.

Examine the rocks.

I bet a lot of them are your own. Admit it, and own them. Eventually you'll learn that those rocks can be pounded into the smaller stones that you can use to pave your path, and smooth your ride.

A Door Opens

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

A door swings open
And the cold air rushes in
Ahead of the weary figure
Another cold night
A place far from home
Again feeling this pain
Amid the miles
And the faces of strangers
Alone and segregated
Another cold night
Alone in this room
Ambiance lacking substance
A bed
A lamp
A place to sit
A place to rest
Among the scattered papers
All falling like the snow
A drape on his shoulders
As his breath hangs in the air
Acrid and cold
Anguish and trying
Alone in this room
Abandoned to this existence
Abused and discarded
Another night
Another cold night
Alone
Alone in this room

Coming Around Again

Posted on by Paul In The Buff

You take me back
Memories so still
Of summer's breeze and winter's chill
You silently plead with a child's will
To be safe, held tightly in my arms
Lifting you up, to keep you from harm
Don't let this mood be your alarm

Like the moon and my sin
This will come around again

Our cycles abound
These cycles come around
Dragging cycles over ground
In celestial joy
The cycles resound

While we bend the sky
Across horizons wide
And with them meet,
the curve of your eye
And all my sins will be magnified

But still you remain of silent will
Cradled safely in my arms so still
Like summer's breeze and winter's chill
My love will come around again