Sunday Morning Thoughts: 9.24.17

It must be real.

As real as anything else that could be called real. Otherwise the bother would not be had to talk about it.

For as far as I can believe, all sorts of nouns have made impact upon me. Personal, historical, communal and oh, so many more. People I have met, or even those I have only read about. There are things that experience has granted, in one way or another, that have sculpted the identity I call home.

So, it must be possible. To then, have a similar impact to that which was felt. But to be in charge of sending such waves out into the world. That’s something, alright. Though, we might better say responsible for, not so much in charge of.

But if it be possible… How?

What is necessary for the brew of influence? One big move, or a perpetual series? And how can you tell what scale is meant for you? We’re not all Joans of Arc or Charlemagnes. Some folks might not get more than one other soul to inspire.

Some, less.

And some get billions. And, I suppose funny enough, competency need not be a factor when one has sway of huge masses of civilizations. But who am I, some layman, to say such things?

Which can only prompt my wonder about my own. And a study of history does show some things. For as real as I can tell, impacts have been made in the lands of some other human lives, in my name. And though they are not all benevolent, there are moments that glimmer with something nice.

But anyway.

I was at this thing yesterday. A thing for friends and family and love. There was music and drinks and merriment and tears. A fundraiser with no façade aside from what it is. People seeing each other who have not in weeks, months, years. And among all these people, I can see those who my life has meant something. All different ways. All different names and faces. Each story, its own. And some of them may read this and wonder about what their own life has meant to others. And I hope you do. And I hope you find good things, even with in the not-so-good.

But this thing. It started as something small. Something intimate, who’s monetary goal was appropriately modest. But this thing, she has grown. A beast of positivity. Each year, more come and more donate and more share their stories. Through laughter and tears and sweat.

And the person who started this all, is not one to think of herself as massively influential. But she is, and she always has been. Her story has spread. See it here, if you’d like.

And I ride high on the integral role I play in this day. Though it frustrates and stresses me at times, the room of broken glass, cigarette smoke and half packed musical gear at the end of the night, rings right through me. A sobering moment. One that shows me, I believe, that efforts must be made to make shake in the world. Perhaps some are lucky. But yesterday was not about the lucky ones. It was about the fighters. The hopeless romantics. The hard work of good friendship. The family that you’re given and the families you choose.

But I won’t ramble too much about something that you had to be there for. Apologies, but that’s just how it goes.

I will, however, ramble on.

For it would be a true dope who would try and get away saying what I do here is not in the hope of impact. Sure, it is and always will be a partial and public psychoanalysis. But it aims to give something to you. Whoever you are. To stir something inside you. And I do mean you. All of you and each of you. For I think of many different people as I go on and on. What you have done for me. What I have done for you. And if and why and how it is to go on towards the future.

Because good intentions are not a guarantee for a likewise outcome. And there are at least a few who my life as crossed theirs for the worse. Old friends turned bitter. Love, old and scorned. Romance, drifted or burnt down to ash. It is all there. I dare not think myself fool enough to hide it. At least not from myself.

Yet, I do not see the negative as malicious. Though I do see the positive that way. It is when I aim for something good, or grand, or benevolent, that I am my most aggressive. And how easily that can become too much. For the self. For other selves. How we can become burdens upon each other. Sources of chaos and tension and stress, personified.

Or, it all breaks down to a sigh. A wish by a made-up thread, pissed itself out of gusto. A passive addiction to what was wanted, surrounded by the indifference of the movings of the world. Hardly a hello before a missed goodbye.

But I can feed on the echoes, or I can look to the way I think it best to go. Let us go with the latter.

I suppose the best way to attempt at influence, you must know what it is that you’d be best to do. Not always an easy thing to know. And not always limited to one.

And from that medium, comes the labor. And if you’re doing it right, each attempt should take heart. A piece of you goes into everything. But as a fair warning, you must be made aware that such a way kills. It’s gotten plenty in the past, and I’m sure many more to come. It may get me, but I don’t think it quite so. There’s still plenty of fight left in me. And I am to keep it until I die.

So, what have we found here? Nothing? Something?

It must be one of those two. And maybe without even knowing, my thoughts upon my own perceived impact, is an attempt to make some. And maybe, I hope that it means something to the stranger as much as the long-time relationship. It could also be likely that a hope is made for specific eyes to fall here.

So, if it be something, what is it?

It could be something found to help reorient another mind to get back towards their goals. Or a part in a series that has been going (with hiccups) for the better part of six years. One that shall go on, with open ended design.

It could be something to make a smile on a face I’d hoped to make smile upon, wherever in the world that smile might be.

Or, it could be nothing.

But.

I don’t think this the masterpiece. But it is just as much not a finger painting.

Because out of all the ways my intentions go out into the world, this one always pertains to paths instead of destinations. This is about trying to get there. It has nothing to do with what happens when you do.

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