The "Wall."
No, not Pink Floyd or the Runner's.
Not the Chinese Great one or your local bar.
Not the Wailing Wall or the Vietnam Memorial one.
Not the Berlin Wall or the one in New York that causes us great pains at the gas tank.
Not Hadrian's Wall or the one's that fell around Jericho (albeit they may be closer than I think). Not even Fenway's Green Monster or the Wall of Troy.
I'm naming a new wall. The Soldier's Wall. The one I've come close to many times over the last 15 months but have now become intimate with and thus my move from what's become home away from home to another. All this spinning down has taken me with it so I'm going into the Land of Milk and Honey.........ie Tim Horton's, Green Bean and chow hall's that provide food for you. A place where roughage isn't canned corn or reconstituted mashed potatoes. A place where salad isn't the weed you pick from between the gravel. A place where TV doesn't bestow the virtues of everywhere but the Western World. A place where working out won't cause a tetanus panic. A place where walking outside the small walls won't risk increasing your weight by one 7.62mm brass round. A place where Portuguese and Bulgarians shop there hearts out in between long perimeter guard shifts. A place you don't just dream about where your scat goes, but you can smell it because its right next to you. Oh, yes, the scat pond.
It calls to me. It says, "break the mold." "Be brave.....Come back to me." So, I will heed the call and and try to break away from my funk. I will return to where it began almost 12 months ago.
"Fear breads a deadening caution, a holding back, a stagnant waiting until people no longer can recall what they are waiting for or saving themselves for. When we fear failure more than we love life; when we are dominated by thoughts of what we might have been rather than by thoughts of what we might become; when we are haunted by the disparity between our ideal self and our real self; when we are tormented by guilt, shame, remorse, and self-condemnation, we deny our faith in the God of love." Brennan Manning
5 comments:
Hang in there, Babe. Not much longer! We love you.
Almost HOME.
The Thunder Run has linked to this post in the blog post From the Front: 04/23/2008 News and Personal dispatches from the front lines.
You are soon coming to the land of Marsh and Honey...where the only scat you smell is the constant "green monster" smell is the "Puppy Poop Pouch" or "P cubed"
(P3) as we call it. Here, there are no walls, except the ones you make for yourself, and the smells of fresh food is always in the kitchen. You'll be in that land soon and you can "spin" downward into a soft, down "goosey loosey" as much as you please!!! The Wall of the Lord is around you and yours.
and Lalla has spoken...so be it, so be it!
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