M/D Ramblings: Love And Imperfection Poem by bradley blue jay phipps

[I start this by saying, I am trying to find a voice. In the 2 previous attempts, 'the haiku of August 2014' and 'Struggling - September 1,2015' I had a few people encourage me to continue. I have changed the title, as you see above. M/D = manic/depression. Also, if you like to read prose such as this there is another author going by the name st. jinx. She is on an adventure, and her tales are very worthy. http: //allpoetry.com/st.%20jinx]

It has been pointed out that I dated the first entry for 2015. I will say that was on bipolar purpose. Or my addictive, sleepless personality if you will. This allows me to hedge my entries, and gives me more time to write. What is a journal... (I am going to begin to use the word ramble instead of journal. To journal is to do it daily.) What is a journal if you don't write but once a year? For me? A grocery list of emotional baggage scribbled on a page or two. How often should I write? Couple of times a week at the very least, I think. That is what I will set as my goal. Goals. Now there is something to ramble about. I have had only one successful goal in my life, and it knocked me out. I scored with a header on a corner kick while playing for the University of Tennessee soccer club in 1975. My only goal ever. I woke up running, or being pulled, back up the field.

I'm still trying to get the getting up earlier thing going, but when I have, I hate to stop, get dressed and go to work. I need a benefactor. Someone to pay me to write. Nothing subliminal here...

The morning thing does work. I am typing now, but had a killer day at work yesterday.13 hours with traveling. Many things to think about sitting in a worn out van with a cracked windshield heading through soybean country of eastern Arkansas. I used to close my eyes when traveling through this part of the world as I headed west to the Rockies. I did not want, and still don't, any part of it. To much racial/social/educational history in the deltas of the Big Muddy. The music is fine, but I can buy a CD. Still if I drop my guard and look at the hearts of those I come in contact with, I am amazed at the beauty. There was a mist this morning crossing the river, and it always reminds me of the Civil War and all the senseless death that occurred in and around here. It haunts it to this day. No, you don't understand, IT HAUNTS TO THIS DAY!

So this rambling is about Love, sort of. I will never be finished with the subject of love and will return to it as it fleshes out in my life. Thomas Merton, a monk, yes, a monk, and that is important information, once wrote,

'The beginning of love, is to let those we love be perfectly themselves...'

Two key words here. 'beginning' and 'perfectly.' In the beginning... I am sure all can agree that there is always a beginning to whatever, and whatever can actually have many beginnings and endings. Or there is just change, but that is a beginning going off in another hallway of doors. Hallways and doors. The Matrix showed us that trap. Still I love opening new doors. Can we say, 'SURPRISE! ! ! ' Party on! Find your 'beach.' (another rambling topic)

'Perfectly.' As people go they tend to be 'perfectly' imperfect. Flawed and just plain 'wrong, ' at times. Me, too. Deeply flawed, and, yes, it goes way beyond my alcoholism and manic/depression. I think... No, I believe this is what, Jesus, was talking about. (I am having trouble with parts of the Bible, as I have had in the past. I'm sticking to the Gospels and what Jesus said and did. Of course these were written down by other men, but it's what I got. There is a book I once had that had been extensively researched, and they were able to put the 4 Gospels in the chronological order in which things happened. It opened my eyes and my faith. I recommend it and will look for title... (I looked. Too many to confront at this time.)

I think, Jesus, was all about a change of thinking. A change of thinking about love. We are what we think, and when I let my mind go, the neighborhoods begin to blight. Houses are empty, grass has not been cut, cars are on cinder blocks, dogs are loose and always barking. The streetlights are shifty and out. Snap. Just like that I can be there. It's a cold and lonely place, and a perfect somewhere to meet a demon.

I once told a friend I could be in the middle of a lie and not know I was there. I can. My thinker is still in process of repair. So, how does one repair a broken thinker? By filling it completely with prayer.

I don't do this. I can't do this. I know it's called, 'praying without ceasing, ' or something. I first ran across it in a Salinger book. I think it was Frannie, who was having this crisis, or Zooie. I don't remember. Pilgram's Progress was mixed up in there, as well, I think. How does one pray without ceasing? (Quit looking down at your damned hand and the 'digital masterbater' there in. Digress intentional. The best thing I ever did was drop the iPhone in the dog's, Riley's, water bowl. My bill is a whole lot lower, and I like getting surprised by the weather.) .

Edward M. Bounds spoke of this type of prayer in many of his books, and Jesus, Himself, taught the parable of the lady who would not leave the judge alone, so he finally granted her what she wanted. Prayer in the form of importunity. Now that does not mean pray without ceasing for the big lotto hit. I've got dibs. What I truly believe is to pray so you stay in contact with God, for me, Jesus, as you go about your day. It's a choice. Love is a choice. Prayer is a choice, as well, and if we practice, over time, it will come naturally to mind. However, there are those 'imperfect' people out there to frack it up.

I do think and believe that is why men and women went into the desert and formed communities, which began to have rules and changed their names to monasteries. They did not want to have the beaten path of the world at their doorsteps. But that all changed as the communities once again morphed into a central church and coffers were needed and needed to be filled. The monasteries needed towns and people with money or goods around them to pay the Pope. One of the greatest phrases ever uttered, written and placed into being is, 'separation of church and state.' (Need I say, ISIS? - and am I now on some list?)

What was Jesus's real intent? It brings us full circle to the age old story of whispering something in the ear of one person, and as it goes around the room the story changes. We are human. We don't listen. We are not perfect, except in imperfection. I believe a big part of his intent was to teach us to pray, to stay in contact with Him, through the Holy Spirit and that's it. He promises peace. 'Peace I give you.' I want peace. A little peace of this and a lotta peace of that. But what I really want is the peace that takes the fears of the world out of my head and places them in my prayers without ceasing box in my heart. Only the Holy Spirit can help me do that. He has the key to the box.

It's actually a sad thing to know an answer and fall so short of the objective. Like D-Day, the Airborne troops knew where to land. They needed to be close to their objectives, but heavy fire from the German guns, wind, altitude and numerous other things sent them splaying across the French countryside. They had to compromise and work together. Men had to step up and lead when that was not really their role 30 minutes before while falling and floating in yak yak to almost certain death. I think, if you are open to it, times like that can be moments of great and courageous love; sometimes even for one's enemy.

I think we are going to be needing more, so much more, love for our perfectly 'imperfect' brothers and sisters of any persuasion in the coming days, months and years. I fear for my children and their children. I think end times are upon us, but I will go into them (at times) with head high, heart out and praying hard. Frankly, it's my only reliable tool (weapon seemed too harsh, but...) , and it really is the easiest choice to make.

If you have taken the time to read this entire piece of rambling, take a moment and say a prayer. Thank God or Jesus or your Higher Power. Pray something for or about yourself, your family and friends and someone you resent. Old AA trick that, damned, if it don't work. Say please and thank you. Yes, Ma'am and No, sir, AND hold the door open for another human being.

Till next the ramblin' rodeo begins. I will be talking about Heaven. I have no earthly idea what to say, but someone asked me a question.