Witt's End

 There are two methods of grieving I'll never be able to wrap my mind around. Suffering in silence, and turning pain into a macabre competition.  I know the stages of grief. I’ve experienced and studied them. I know we don’t always do them linearly. We may fixate on phases or actions. Grief isn’t pretty. It’s dark. It’s consuming.  But it can lead to something amazing. That’s why I hate when it’s weaponized. Used against each other. Used to inflict pain instead of working through it. It’s my hope we can all learn from grief. Share it. Experience with others the range of emotions it is.

Look at any old stone structure. Go take a look. Or google one. But anything will do. One thing you should notice is that there is a foundation. Look at it hard.  I was looking at an old stone building in a park today. There was also an old stone fence. The base of them had stones which were larger than the stones stacked on top.  If you look at more complex structures the largest stones are typically toward the bottom. The beefiest in the corners as well. There is one exception. Arches. The largest stone is often at the peak. The largest stones carry the most force. They're special stones with special names. Keystones and cornerstones. Essential heavy rocks, shaped specifically to hold up a structure.  So it is with life. We have heavy moments of paramount importance that ground and support the life we build. Now that's a really long preamble to something I want to talk about today. In faith we need to have people who have heavy gifts, experiences that are built upon. Some of

  I have some things I want to write that I don’t have the skill to put to paper. I truly feel like I can read it in my head, but I don’t have the technical writing skill to put in on paper. I’m in between quarters at school. I’m working on my mental, physical, spiritual, and relational help. It’s time to try something about it. For 52 days I’m going to do my German duolingo, workout, and write a post. It’s going to be scheduled. Possibly tedious and frustrating. But I hope it will bear dividends. It’s time to get consistent. I flit and I need to stop and focus. I have outlines, paragraphs, and half finished pieces galore. It’s time to complete them and get them out there. That means structure. Here’s my schedule: Monday-Blogger Tuesday-Blogger Wednesday-Blogger Thursday-Medium Friday-Substack Saturday-Blogger Sunday-Blogger I’m doing it this way to spread the load. And hopefully. Get more interactions and feedback. Because I want to get better. Those things that I don’t know how to ar

I’m not going to watch Under the Banner of Heaven. Not now. Maybe in the future. Maybe not. But I know I can't right now. For those unaware a miniseries is premiering on Hulu that stars Andrew Garfield. It tells the story of a murder of a woman in Utah that was influenced by a fundamentalist reading of early doctrine of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. It's already ruffling some feathers, and being praised in other circles. And like I've said; I'm not watching it.  Now the reason for that isn’t that I’m afraid of what I might see. It’s not. I’ve already had to confront the complex and often dogmatic history of my faith. Truly I have. I've faced down Danites, blood atonement doctrine, the Mountain Meadows massacre, polygamy, blacks and the priesthood. There are things to face in our history as a member of the Church I belong too. No that’s not the reason I can't watch.  It’s not even this specific incident. I’ve read and researched this one a coup

I have a new goal for my state of being. Loving unabashedly.  I want to spend time doing things I love. Being with people I love. As much as possible. And I want to not apologize for what I love ever again. Love is a noun, verb, and adjective simultaneously. And it's a near universally positive word. I don't think I should feel ashamed about it. So I'm choosing not to be. I spend 40 hours a week at work. I spend 28-50 hours a week sleeping. I want to spend the rest of the time living life the way I want to live it. People, places, things, etc. I'm not apologizing anymore. I love my wife. I want to spend as much time with her as possible. I'm proud of that. And most believe rightfully so. Same with the time I spend with our children. Other family. Friends. Chosen family. I'm spending my time where it matters. When it comes to where I go. It'll be where I want to whenever possible. The trails I love. The river. The lake. The ocean. Cities I've always wante

 I don't always get the joke. I have to work through to the punchline. I get it last. But I'm supposed to be smart. I keep hearing that. I'm so freaking smart. But I don't always get the joke. I used to think it was naivety. But looking back it was something more. There's a reason I have to play with my hair. Why I'm constantly running my fingers through it. Because I can't bite my nails like I used to. Or sing to myself. Talk to my self. I'm too old. But I feel compelled to do something. It's the way my mind works. It's the crutch that's soothing. I have to be honest about that. Look back at how often I've used physical stimuli to focus on what's happening in the here and now, or keep my emotions in check. I'm trying to focus in on how I tick. See what are prominent trends and do something about it. Use it, change behavior, change performance. I can't live on "being smart but unmotivated" forever. I need to reconcil

I stared at a page tonight. I haven't done that in a very long time.  It's strange though. It wasn't for the lack of something to write. I had the ideas. I even have the outline. I just don't have the drive. I don't have the energy. I hope that it comes back. Soon.  But if not. I'll still try tomorrow.

  Someone dies in combat there’s an often a memorial. A place for their name to be etched in stone. Found. Remembered. A place to be shared. A place to live on after those who remember them have passed away. If one of those soldiers takes their life, there usually isn’t the same remembrance. Hopefully there is a headstone. A place for those who remember them to come. At least while they’re still living. Hopefully they have someone to pass on the memory. But often there is not. For those in combat, there are rosters, reports. Records to tell the stories. Places to find the struggles. Something tangible along with the oral tradition of those who fought there.  Those who take their lives, maybe there’s a note. Hopefully a journal, a social media profile. Something that makes the stories known. Reminds who they were. Not as many will be around to tell the story. One of the biggest burdens on our veterans is telling the story only they remember. That memory is both a blessing and an obligat

 I don't fully understand the Florida "don't say gay" House Bill 1557 . I don't. I keep seeing posts like this on social media and I'm lost.               When I was 5 I wasn't in elementary school but by the time I was in first grade at age 6 I did. The text of the bill bans classroom instruction on sexual orientation, gender identity, sexuality, from grades K-3 and through grade 12 limits it based on development etc. This not a bill about sex ed.  So we shouldn't talk about marital relationships or status in schools? That's weird to me. Because I knew the difference between Miss (Ms.) Missus (Mrs.) and Mizz (Ms.) by first grade. I knew their marital status. I knew that those that were married had a husband. My children have had classmates with two parents of the same gender, and have met family friends in homosexual pairings. It's an unavoidable aspect of life. One that we need not hide from. How this will be discussed intrigues and worries m