The more pain you try to coverup, the more you run, why is that?

How to know when you’re fearful as opposed to being careful.

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From the Movie "Training Day" caption

If I talk to you about Chinese checkers, and you never played it, you probably wouldn’t react passionately about anything related to these checker games in China. Lol. (Supposed to be a joke). So, listen, if I refer to something that you have no connection to whatsoever, it’s expected that you are numb to the information and so you’re indifferent to it as well. NO REACTION.

But on the other hand, if I say something to you and you now react in some type away …. it shows you are affected by what I said… you could be in a certain type of way…and not even know it.

Okay, let’s go one step further.

So, now if I move closer to you with a phone call, or a text, or a visit, or simply just an idea or thought for us to join together,… and you react in such a way that you run, or disappear, or become preoccupied, or become obsessed with something other than what was about to be discussed… you might have some real pain. In fact, it ain’t no might in it. You DO have real pain inside….and you are running.

The problem with this “Run Forest run…” behavior is that it is repetitive and duplicatable, and it follows you to every juncture where you encounter big opportunities, and any moments that have an emotion of pain attached to it potentially. All this evasive behavior starts in our youth, and parents sometimes helped foster this bad reaction that you repeatedly have to events of significance in your life. It’s not just being “nervous”… it’s the affects of the silent trauma to your emotions which had its beginning in custodial issues.

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Captions from "Training Day" Denzel...

I see this pain as it relates to my own life, especially with my non custodial sons. Their mothers (one black, the other Italian) didn’t know that as a result of their parental selfishness, their first born children would have this evasive reaction to huge moments in their life that would follow them into their teenage decision making. My elementary school aged boys became naturally anxious to be with me, so much so that their moms incorrectly and fearfully interpreted it as unnatural and in need of medical/psychological intervention (for which I didn’t agree at all).
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When it came to isolating the kids from their biological father (for any jack ass reason at all) my sons (who are years apart in age and different in race) surpressed and internalized their feelings year after year. They began to deal with their own intrinsic paternal seperation questions by using the comic relief of cartoons and video games (the electronic babysitter commonly used by their moms). I could see the pain in their eyes when I dropped my sons…my only sons… off.

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Caption from Movie "Training Day"

Tough part in all this… this dad wanted to be there for his sons from day 1. But these moms just chose to be with that “other guy”. They could care less about me as a person…. they just wanted the dna. I chose badly…. that’s all.

I remembered the questions the young lads asked me as to when we could go out together again and how soon that would be. They were cautioned (by their moms) not to get too happy about these scarcely planned visits that the moms rationed for their own selfish reasons. I remember being hindered from sharing with my sons the details of why the separation had to take place at drop off, and in some cases they were so young they really only wanted to have a good time, they didn’t care about the cause as to why, they just didn’t want the pain. Still true up to this day.

I also remember the long, silent rides home. And I recalled the pain that I too felt…. with all its quiet simmering hurt. I went searching for my music…. and my comfort food because I saw the fractured state of my family. I never liked it… but I knew I did everything I could to avoid it.

Their mothers, incapable of understanding the depths of this silent cry within these young men, were blinded by fears they possessed as females unbridled. They were oblivious as to how this silent pain would turn itself into a quiet storm of anger in both sons,… looking for a way to release itself from out of their own young emotional cavern of thoughts. They (the moms) after all, where not men… and didn’t exercise the wisdom that dictated that they not try to replace that biological bond with dad…. with a cheaper substitute (usually a different love interest). These moms eventually found in one another a comradery in motherhood… a mutually shared selfishness, a twisted sense of self denial that my boys were forced to live with and get used to as “just normal”. As sons, they couldn’t speak up without upsetting their moms, no way could they express their pain from deep down inside…they could only listen to the drama unfolding before them and watch… the tv.

Later on down the road in high school my sons sometimes could channel that anger into areas that produced enough energy for them to burn and use to excel in sports, to overcome a deficit of peace that pain rendered, separating my kids from just a peaceful, stable comfortable maturation process. And in the end… dysfunctional living for them was accepted as…. their new normal. Fathers… you know what this is. You recognize this M.O. right?

Tomorrows are an accumulation of todays… I put my time in, I paid with my own blood and soon my story will be told.

The time for healing, and for courage to step forward front and center…. is now. I don’t expect courage to rise up from a victim’s mentality. Even when family such as moms and dads don’t collectively buy into the reality of the truths they must face and give account for, their contribution to a victims mentality is evident in the apprehensions of a child’s ambitious endeavors while growing into adulthood.

We as people are entitled to the healing phases of life. Spirit, Soul and Body.
My prayer is that God will allow that to form and to take place… because I choose not to be indifferent.

Distance is closer than you think!

Do you remember when it was neat to write your pen pal in elementary school? Do you remember how nice it was when you got your Valentines cards from someone in class who remained anonymous? Do you remember what it felt like to receive your mail order magazine, books, or toy order after a period of weeks when someone ordered the item by phone or postal mail? Do you remember that feeling of releasing the balloon, with the raffle ticket attached, from the lawn… and squinting to find out how far it travels.  Do you remember waiting and anticipating?

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Today, mail order has gone totally tech… in bringing you an ability to get things drop shipped at home from anywhere around the world…and that sometimes for free. Whether it be  through Amazon, Best Buy, Staples, Ebay or some other online store you’re just a prepaid Paypal debit card away from ownership. I have friends in the military that use Amazon for everything including Christmas gifts. Hahaha!

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So what used to be distant and very time intensive, today can be done in a matter of seconds. You can contact anyone….anywhere from your own siblings…. to your parents… to your online connection overseas in a matter of seconds. Using Skype or OoVoo to video chat, or Kik to text message or Facebook to instant message… you can get to whomever you need to get to as quickly as you need to get the message to them in a matter of seconds!

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Is it any wonder why excuses we make not to take action, or to find answers or to be informed are a waste of time.  Ever get the sense that “I’m just a kid”, or “I didn’t know”…seem to be evaporating in the blink of an eye? Apathy carelessness and the like don’t seem to have places to hide anymore. If you want to do something you can do it! The question remains are you courageous enough to face the truths you couldn’t handle at 15 1/2…. and how would you go about doing just that, what tools will you use to get it done?  Treasure is normally sought out by searching and digging and fracturing and mining, etc. Getting answers to lifelong questions ought to be treasure to you and worth knowing the truth about. That’s the value History plays…to speak to later generations about past truths.

Unfortunately some history is vetted, shaded, tainted, manipulated to disguise the “truth”. Oftentimes absentee parents that were pushed away from family… have to confront guilded historical perceptions of their non custodial kids who, themselves, felt too guilty to ask about the truthful causes of broken family circumstances…because of the emotional trauma it placed on the parent they were raised with that was wanting to hide the truth as long as possible. Wow!
Some have done worse though…

Remember that all through history, there have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they seem invincible. But in the end, they always fall. Always.” Mahatma Ghandi

Mormons take a different approach on historical value. They have even used technological advances in a new way as they have a headstart on the tracking of ancestral genealogies of entire races of people all around the world.  Esquire Mag Article on Mormonism and DNA

Their physical archives are massive.. and now with the digital age they have made info available online. With dna mapping…some races with curly hair now discover just how closely related they are with curly haired mixed race heritage. Not so distant after all….

But can you handle…. the Truth?