Month: March 2022

148. IN SEARCH OF PEACE

Peace seems to be lacking these days. The idea seems so elusive, so distant. If it could be bought and sold, it would be the world’s hottest commodity. People often say they want peace, all the while disguising their definition of it behind actions of selfishness. “As long as I don’t have to sacrifice my lifestyle, I’ll support those who suffer.” Not exactly an attitude of any religious or spiritual belief, is it? I truly believe the fires of separation are fueled by complacency. As we elect to stay in our comfort zones, we often take the stance of someone watching a colleague on the playground getting beat up while quietly saying to ourselves, “Boy, I feel bad for that kid, but I’m sure glad it’s not me.” A lack of gratitude for all our blessings mixed with a mantra of “what about me?” is an extremely common and toxic mindset these days. This is the pinnacle of an arrogant or selfish attitude. 

The majority of mankind does seem to worship those who are successful in a materialistic sense over those who have an abundance ethics and serenity. We bend our knees in awe of those with power and wealth instead of doing so in reverence for those who embody kindness and tolerance. People often claim they do otherwise, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s almost always an outright lie. Actions always reveal our true focus of devotion. 

I’ve said this for years, and I reiterate here, “The easiest way to tell good people from bad people is that good people get along, and bad people don’t.” A lack of trust and cooperation characterizes the most poisonous, corrupt, and evil people in history. They believe they are right while thinking and arguing that everyone else is wrong. Their actions, which often include third grade childish tantrums and shallow name calling, are designed for personal glory rather than a greater good. If someone disagrees with them, they’ll not only kick them out of their circle, they’ll do so with extreme prejudice. The more public they can paint those they oust as a new enemy, the more they’ll convince themselves of self-righteousness. They want “yes men” around them, they want drones who blindly support whatever nonsense spews out of their pie-holes. These people are NOT interested in peace, they seek domination and worship. Every action is designed to prop up their ego.

We need to stop basing our leadership on outer or superficial qualities and look to those with inner strength and virtues. Humility, as far as I’m concerned, is the greatest principle a person can own. There stands a harsh dichotomy. The people with the best qualifications will most assuredly NOT want the spotlight in any way, shape, or form because such pursuits will not match their belief systems. Yet as elusive as they are, look we must. Worship of people through the lens of their avaricious accomplishments is a worldwide addiction, one that in the end, will erode all forms of cooperation leaving nothing but a path of chaos and destruction behind us.

We do tend to band together for great causes when bad things happen, and this is a good reaction. We do not, however band together when good things are stable. If we did, our comradery and accomplishments would skyrocket in  strength and stability. By ignoring this possibility we throw our ultimate potential in the trash. Why must horror, violence, death, and misery be the only catalyst that bonds us in solidarity? Why must we wait for blood to be spilled before we seek brotherhood? Is this our nature? Can we not rise above instinct and self-interest and reach out with Love without thinking we’ll diminish our lives by doing so?

There’s a saying attributed to Victor Hugo, and it’s appropriate as it gets.

“Nothing is more powerful than an idea whose time has come.”

NOW is the time, before things get much, much worse.

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With Love and compassion,

Daniel Andrew Lockwood

147. A BLOODY CHILDHOOD

My childhood was lived in fear. I never had any siblings so I was sole the victim of my mother’s rage several times a week. Many times she would set an alarm clock next to the counter where I was washing dishes and if it went off before I was done, she’d start beating me with coat hangers at the sink. If I missed even one speck of anything, same consequence. I was screwed either way. Yes, I’ll admit I was indeed slow and I hated doing it. Gosh, I wonder why? When she was too lazy to vacuum, she used to make me crawl around picking things out of carpet while she pointed out what would catch her eye, and if I missed something, WHAM! Usually my whippings would not commence unless she made me strip totally naked first. As a little kid, even as young as kindergarten, I was often left home alone, and on the way out the door mother would take great pleasure in turning around to say, “When we get back you’re going to get a spanking.” The waiting was always worse than the actual incident; mental torture combined with physical pain.

All too often I’d go to school bruised, bleeding through my clothing. No one ever noticed that I knew of. I was the primary target of her mental instability and usually for some sort lousy excuse like “You’re not like other children, you’re much worse.” At the time I thought I actually was the catalyst of her behavior. As a result I spent a good deal of my childhood in introspection. Looking back all I can think is, wow. I was six, seven, eight, nine years old, who does this to a little kid? I was fed, clothed, housed, and so on, but to be honest, I never felt loved.

By default my father was just as guilty as my mother because although he was aware of what was happening, he never tried to stop anything. I didn’t realized this until it was pointed out in my early thirties. THAT sucked.

It’s a good thing my parents never had more kids. Who knows how they would have turned out.

There’s no doubt I was different and weird, still am, proudly I might add. Even as a boy my thoughts and behaviors were odd. “I’m learning patience, I’m learning what NOT to do to others when I get older, I’m finding other ways to eke out joy and peace from other avenues.” I was admittedly prone to be self-centered, loud, and pushy. These were traits I (hopefully) eventually grew out of as I became more and more self-aware.

Now, my life was NOT constant torture. I got birthday and Christmas presents. I had a few friends. I never went hungry. My parents did fight at the top of their lungs at least once a week, but they did not do drugs or drink, and of the two channels that we could get in the mountains, at least one that came in clear got my go-to, get away from reality show five days a week, Star Trek!

For years I blamed my adult misfortunes on a messed-up childhood. When I finally sobered up in 1995, my recovery came with a gift that allowed my burden to no longer be a matter of any consequence. I stopped blaming the past and started owning the present.

There’s another definition for removing blame from our lives it’s called…

FORGIVENESS.

Read on with a little courage and you just might find some peace.

Now, forgiveness is NOT what most people define it to be. It’s not saying you’re okay with what the other person did. It IS saying that you’re going to simply drop all those feelings of bitterness, hostility, rage, angst, revenge, darkness, and so on you may have toward someone. Why? Because no matter what, no one can take away your pain, no matter how much they may want to, no matter how much you want them to, you are the one who must drop it. You are the only one with the power to let go of the feelings that are ruining your life and giving you cancer.

Get it now? They cannot feel or remove YOUR pain, ever. No one is capable of that no matter how much of an empath they claim to be.

Good. I’m happy you understand.

My parents were, and still are, just screwed up people, and that’s all. In the middle of a shared insanity they had a kid who was caught in between. When I realized this it broke my heart. I have pity for them now. Their pain is something I do not have the power to remove. I wish I could.

You know, I was drinking two-fifths of vodka a day in the mid-nineties and it eventually caused an aneurysm while I was driving, yet I’m still here and so are you.

I have a great life. I have a beautiful wife who also is my best friend, a very good, well-paying job, a nice home, my credit rating is about as high as it can get, we take nice vacations, and we have plans for the future that include all kinds of pleasant things. Many years ago I would have used a gun on myself had I owned one. Glad I didn’t.

All the miracles and gifts I’ve received since my mental rebirth have been because I refuse to blame anyone for anything in my life anymore. NO ONE AT ALL. By the way, this includes everything labeled both good and bad.

Can people get over childhood neglect and abuse? Yes, and when done right it’ll propel one to the stratosphere of achievement.

Please follow my blog, comment and share as you wish.

With Love and compassion, Daniel Andrew Lockwood