My imperfect preachy self

Young long haired blessing
Image from Andrey Safanov on 123rf.com

I am imperfect. I am flawed in so many ways that I don’t bother to count the ways. And while I’m at peace in knowing of my imperfections, I am filled with a desire to improve myself. I want to be the best version of myself that I can be.

One way that I work to improve myself is by first knowing who it is that I want to be. I know that I want to live with integrity, love, compassion and empathy. I do not ever want to let fear or anger take the wheel and drive.  Though currently, I still allow it more than I would like.

Next I am taking action. One way that I take action is through writing in various ways.  Have you ever heard the expression “Dress for the job you want to have, and not for the job that you do have”? Well, this is sort of how I view my writing.  I write about many things, much of which is exploratory writing aimed at getting to the bottom of where my feelings and thoughts have come from. I speculate about why I feel a certain way and question whether or not it fits with the better version of myself that I’m seeking to be. This kind of exploratory writing is not something I generally share with others, except with those closest to me.

The next kind of writing that I practice is writing in the voice of the person that I want to be. Sometimes this sort of writing can sound a bit preachy.  I certainly don’t want to come off as sounding like I’m preaching to others about how they ought to be, or how they ought to live.  The truth is that I’m often preaching to myself.  I’m speaking to that voice in my head that likes to assert itself as me, from the voice of the person that I want to be.  This is the writing that I will sometimes share publicly if inspired to do so.

So please forgive me if I sound like I’m preaching a sermon sometimes. Know that I’m preaching to myself just as much or even more than I’m preaching to anyone else. And please understand that when you see me make a statement that contradicts my own written words, this is quite likely because of the fact that there are two versions of myself present in my writing. Sometimes we are locked in a battle. The old thoughts and fears are etched firmly in my brain, and sometimes they fight for survival. These old unhealthy thoughts and fears will not simply go quietly into the night. Sometimes the fears hide themselves in order to survive, and they pop up at the most unexpected times to try and sabotage my efforts at self improvement.

I cannot promise these fears won’t show up in my writing in this public place. But I can promise this. I promise to do my best to recognize when these fears are bubbling to the surface, and I will promptly take action to acknowledge it. I will not force the fears down or reject them. I will listen with compassion, and I will say thank you to that voice in my head that is bringing these fears to my attention. And, if I’m in the place I hope that I am, I will let the voice know that it has been heard, and that it can now relax and stand down. I got this.

I Love You

I Love You DadIt’s really easy to throw that out here on my Facebook wall to everyone on valentines day.  But what does that really mean to just casually say that to a nebulous group of folks, many of whom I hardly communicate with at all on a one on one basis, let alone face to face.

I’ll be honest.  I struggle internally to say these words, even to my closest friends on any kind of regular basis straight to their face.  There are a few occasions, where in a moment of rare courage, I throw my heart out there and tell my friends that I love them.  But then I bottle the words back up for a few years before I dare speak the words to them again.  I mean, they got the message right?  They know that I love them right?

I think there was a time in my early twenties where I felt like the words had started coming out of me as some sort of habit my family had programmed into me.  Every time we would hang up the phone, the words were there, on the tip of my tongue ready to be spoken.  Of course it was true that I loved my family, and the words were not a lie.  But I questioned the need to say them every single time I hung up the phone with them.  Was it really necessary?  I just told them two days ago when I hung up the phone with them.  And my childish reaction to this thought was to rebel and not be the first to ever say the words to my family unless they said it first, at least for a while.  For conversations with my dad, this meant we almost never said those words to each other.  And my heart seriously aches when I think about that.  I love you dad.  I really really love you.  And I want to say that to you every time I hang up the phone with you, even if I said it just 10 minutes ago.

I’m not at all certain why I’ve never been comfortable telling my friends that I love them to their face.  Is it fear of rejection?  Is it that I don’t know how often or infrequent to say it and not make my friends uncomfortable?  Will my friends think I’m an emotional sap or something if I started saying I love you after every phone conversation?  What if i said it as I was walking away from them after a visit?  I don’t know exactly where the hesitation comes from.  All I know is this truth.  I love my friends and family very much, and on this valentines day I’m feeling that I haven’t told them nearly frequently enough how much I love them.  I haven’t told them nearly enough times how important they are to me.  I haven’t expressed how much their friendship means to me.

And so, I’m going to tag a few of those friends and family who have touched my life in immeasurable ways.  People who I often think about but don’t always make them aware of how important they are to me.

I won’t tag every single person I’m connected to on Facebook, because it becomes that nebulous thing again if I do that.  And I’m holding myself accountable to not just send the nebulous I love you to the world.  Please understand that it doesn’t mean I love you any less if I haven’t tagged you.  😉

Happy Valentine’s Day my loves.

The Art of Asking

Amanda Palmer, The Art of AskingBook Title : The Art of Asking – or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Let People Help

Author : Amanda Palmer

: Description : 

Rock star, crowdfunding pioneer, and TED speaker Amanda Palmer knows all about asking. Performing as a living statue in a wedding dress, she wordlessly asked thousands of passersby for their dollars. When she became a singer, songwriter, and musician, she was not afraid to ask her audience to support her as she surfed the crowd (and slept on their couches while touring). And when she left her record label to strike out on her own, she asked her fans to support her in making an album, leading to the world’s most successful music Kickstarter.

: My Thoughts : 

I absolutely loved this book, and I love Amanda Palmer. I have spent nearly two decades of my life chasing that corporate IPO dream. And in every single case, those pursuits have ended up in heartbreak and painful loss. I was financially disappointed in each case, and further anguished for having wasted so much of my life putting time and energy in the pursuit of others’ dreams, others who didn’t always make what I thought were the right moral choices in a given situation. This, I was told, is how business works. “It is a cutthroat world,” is what people would say. However, for the past few years I have dedicated myself to my local Portland web hosting and design business, Host Pond Web Hosting, with no desire or intent to go public or get rich. Instead, I enjoy extreme happiness by connecting with individual people while helping them build a website for their small business. With The Art of Asking, Amanda Palmer inspires me and reminds me of why I do what I do. She is a role model for how I want to run my business — with trust, integrity, and most of all, connecting with my customers like she connects with her fans. Much love for Amanda Palmer.

 

Open Love Letter to the LGBT Community

LGBT Keep Calm
Image found on http://8tracks.com/melinaleigh/lgbt-3

Let me start by saying that I am most emphatically a straight man, and that I love women! And then I’d like to immediately follow up with this question. Why is it that I’ve always felt compelled to say this so enthusiastically when talking on the subject of LGBT issues? Well, I suspect that it comes from this deeply ingrained habit of immediately associating LGBT with the physical act of sex. And on top of that, this equally deep seated shame that has been hammered into my brain. The idea that sex with any human other than the most surface level pretty woman is somehow repulsive. These thoughts that have been so deeply ingrained into my mind, seem rather ludicrous to me at this point.

I would like to express my wholehearted gratitude and love to the LGBT community for what you have done for me, and for countless others like me. What you have achieved in recent years is nothing short of brilliant. You have managed to take the issue and frame it in a completely different way. And this change has taken you such a long time to achieve. It has taken years of dedication and steadfast determination to make this shift take place. Over the course of decades, you have managed to frame this conversation around LOVE instead of SEX. I absolutely LOVE you for this.

When I see the acronym LGBT, or the words that make up its parts, I no longer visualize a sex act or the parts one uses for sex. Instead, I envision love in all its forms. I picture love and its boundlessness. A love that crosses all the arbitrary boundaries that society inflicts upon our brains.

The transformation of how the discussion is framed, and in how I personally respond emotionally when presented by LGBT issues is immense. The transformation has enriched my life far beyond the important issues of your community. The relationships that I have with others have benefited tremendously. Such a powerful thing, when one realizes that they can hold the same level of love for everyone, regardless of their gender or preference of. When this realization truly sinks in, one can see how their previous definition and understanding of what love is, was shallow and wanting.

It is love that begins to infect us instead of the false boundaries set by others. When I look around, I see far more beauty than I ever have in the past. Those shallow determinations of what society (or media) deems as beautiful begin to fade away when you truly open up this way. Everything holds beauty now.

I hereby emphatically state my desire and determination to stop prefacing my discussions on this topic with the words “I am straight”, or “I love women”.  In fact, it felt odd to do so with this post, and I do it only to make the point that I’m truly finished with such nonsense. Because I love men too. I simply love. There need not be any disclaimer, condition, or stipulation on my love for others.

With Much Love
Richard Powell

Not the answer I expected from my subconscious

Prologue : Prior to this dream, I had been reading the excellent book “Dreams of Awakening” by Charlie Morley. Inspired by this book, I had set some intention for the next time I had a lucid dream. I had planned that I was going to confront some dream characters about the path I’m on in life, and ask what they thought was the most important thing for me right now. I was planning to confront my subconscious. I was planning to confront myself basically.

The Dream : I began to float up from the ground. I was rising above several power lines that were in front of me. This often happens when I’m flying in dreams. Power lines seem to present themselves as obstacles I need to fly over. This dream sign caused me to become lucid as I reached the top of the power lines and flew over them.

I was suddenly flying on top of a Thermarest sleeping pad like a flying carpet and I was lucid. The sky was dark, and I believe there was snow on the ground below me. I was lucid for about two seconds when I remembered my intention to question my subconscious. So I set the intent again. I’m going to ask my subconscious about my path in life, and about what is most important for me at this moment.

I slowly descended from flying and headed toward a small building in the dark that was on the side of the road below. I got off my Thermarest pad and walked through the door of the small building and I placed my flying pad against the wall on the other side of the door.

As I looked around the other side of the door I noticed a group of people were sitting together in this small building. It was around this time that I started to lose my lucidity and I briefly was concerned I might be intruding upon this group of people. My concern did not last long before realizing I had happened upon an AA meeting and was welcomed into the meeting with open arms.

Prologue : Initially I thought my goal of questioning my subconscious had failed as I had lost my lucidity before I was able to ask anyone any real questions. It wasn’t until later that I realized that the AA meeting *was* the answer to my question. I had celebrated my 5 year sobriety about 35 days prior to this dream, and I had meant to start attending more AA meetings as I knew that reconnecting with this group was important for me. And yet, I had not attended a single AA meeting since, and I honestly had completely forgotten about my intent to attend more meetings.

I believe that my subconscious was spot on in its answer to my question about what is important at this moment.