Stormy Thoughts

January 19, 2010 at 2:23 am (Question: What do you care about?)

Finally pen to paper and the words seem to come faster and faster, possibly resurrecting a small glimmer of hope that my creativity is not lost. Now I must be careful, gently blowing on these small embers of ideas and build them into the insights that I demand. Patience is the key once again; patience in life, work and in play, and now even in writing. It is of some note that the patience will allow you to achieve the impossible by playing the tides to reach hidden destinations, though the irony clearly is that if you play the tides wrong and wait, then you will miss out on the very opportunity. I have yet to determine who I admire the most, those that will fight against any wave to reach the shore, or those that calmly wait for the one wave that will bring them to the sands in style.

The conversation of the previous night was again a topic of concern for this evening. What do I care about, the haphazard answer of world peace and to end poverty were greeted with head nods and smiles on the video response. Why would this achieve this response? Though I wish for these things, I do not go out of my way actively achieve either of them. These lofty goals are nothing more than talking points as I stand on the stage at a beauty contest. Do I really care about these things, have I invested time and effort to resolve these problems. The answer is no, so with the notion of starting much simpler than these lofty goals; I tonight have recognized the easy one.

I care for my family, and at different levels depending on who they are within my tribe, I care for the blood of my family. I will have gone out of my way for those members sometimes without regard for my own well being or benefit. So at some cost I have been willing to give for the betterment of others that share my name. This I would say in its most basic form is something that I care about. Of course there are caveats to the statement, as nothing is this simple. I no longer do this without regard to my benefit, a feeling of debt to those that raised me, protected me, educated and pushed me is gone. I feel nothing in that regards, and struggle with what level of self sacrifice am I willing to endure for my immediate family. This should give you pause if you are not in my immediate family because you can guess where this is going. For the rest of my tribe that has never lived closer than a thousand miles you will most likely fare worse in my hierarchy of debt and willingness to suffer at your expense.

Though the last thoughts would seem cold, they are the truth, and yet they do not detract from the fact that I do care for my family. For my brother whom I have nothing in common, for my father who I sensor what I can and cannot say, and for my mother who is almost as cold as I am in some aspects and has a heart larger than should be allowed in others.

The desert sands have picked up again sending the denizens of Baghdad scurrying for their homes and shops. The famed American military that walks the streets at day and flies across the sky is grounded and hunkered down on their mega bases. The day moves on toward night, with no change. You can hear he winds over top the calls to prayer, masking the beautiful sounds of the minarets, and masking the words of hate that are spread form their spires. I sit alone in a small room with my books and notes, recording the passing of the moments waiting for my own boss to return from meetings with the Minister of the Interior. I was told that he would want to see me; I was told that I should be prepared to discuss with him the growing complexities of a situation that has no solution that can be found by those that are looking. I look over at a map and track the day’s events I my head, and am reminded that though I can see clearly on the map what has transpired I still have no way of depicting or understanding what will transpire in the course of the hours, days and weeks to come. These thoughts are best left to the dreams of the restless and the hopes of the brave, and I believe that I am more the former than the later, and will head to bed.


1 Comment

  1. 2010proust said,

    I like the description of the choice to wait out the tides for the right one to come along or to fight against the waves to get what you want when you want it. The consequences being a) never catching the right tide and b) getting beaten down in the surf before ever reaching the shore. This is precisely the gamble we take in profession, travel, love, and faith.

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