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life
  • Jason Stadtlander

Why Laughter Lines are More Important Than Worry Lines
Why Laughter Lines are More Important Than Worry Lines 2560 1805 Jason Stadtlander

Last Thursday marks my forty-seventh trip around the sun. I’m not normally one to fuss too much over birthdays, though I’ll admit that I like to be a little spoiled on my birthday. Ten years back I decided that I would never work another birthday and so far I have been able to hold true to that. As I see it, you only have so many birthdays in this life and I would prefer to remember those birthdays as days that I relaxed and spent time for myself. It is the one day a year that I think is appropriate to be selfish.

That being said, I started mine off with a morning Yoga with instructor Kristen, someone I had never taken a class with before. Unbeknownst to me, my son had conspired with our regular instructor Jennifer about my birthday and halfway in, Kristen said “It’s time to do some birthday planks.” I couldn’t help but laugh, and it was exactly what I needed (the planks and the laughter). There is something to be said about the practice of yoga. Many people do not understand that it is much more than just poses that make you look like a contortionist. It is a mindset. It is about focusing on the present and embracing the energy of life in that present. I know, I know, I too thought that was all a bunch of bull before I started doing it. But it is amazing what a difference taking a moment in our lives to just breathe and focusing on that breath can make.

This year has shown us all the strengths and weaknesses of the human spirit. Much of our [created] world is a toxic environment for the human soul and spirit. Everywhere we turn there is negativity in the news, negativity in politics, negativity in finances, mass shootings, and atrocities too horrendous to look at.

I have never been one that was big on inspirational speaking, writing, or thinking. Nor have I listened to much in the way of motivational content. My father was always very big on being positive, listening to speakers like Zig Ziggler, and even to this day he responds to “How are you doing?” with “I’m great, but I’ll get better.” I always felt it was a bunch of fluffy nonsense and I really wanted to have no part of it. Yeah, I know – Mr. Negativity. Not really though, I wasn’t being negative, I just didn’t feel the need to be “falsely positive”, it felt fake and I didn’t like being fake. But the reality is, if I allow myself to only show how I truly feel (while being inundated with all the negativity of the world), it’s much easier to be down, despondent, or negative. So I am going to focus the next several posts on the positive in the world.

 

I have vowed this birthday, to focus on the positive. This isn’t about ignoring the negative and turning a blind eye to the horrible things around us. I’m not going to be fake about it, I’m not going to “put on a happy face” when I am having a horrible day. But I will choose to listen to the news less (unless they magically decide to start focusing on the positive in the world). I’m going to surround myself with those who love me and who I love in return. I’m going to see the brightness of the day rather than the shadows. I will see the good things my children are doing and focus less on things that they are not doing. I will reach out to my family and friends and talk to them and be there for them when they need me. I will try to be less judgmental and more open-minded. I will embrace the positive changes in the world… things that can affect not only myself but the world my children live in long after I’m gone.

Because the reality of all this is, we need to laugh. We need to love. And laughter lines are truly better than worry lines, not for the looks, but for the experiences that create them.
  • Jason Stadtlander

Give Me a Reason to be Here
Give Me a Reason to be Here 1200 630 Jason Stadtlander

We all go through our daily struggles. For some, it’s a ritual, something they enjoy and count on the unaltered solidity of the habits they’ve formed. While for others it’s a routine, a cycle that they have been thrown into by the circumstances of life, a pattern they are displeased with but stuck in none-the-less, cognoscente that a lot of other people have it worse than they do. Some of us have a complete lack of routine, be it by choice or simply because our daily life or job doesn’t allow for a regular routine.

Regardless of how your daily routine normally goes, you do it because it gives you a purpose, a reason to get up every morning and continue to be a part of society or simply be a part of someone’s life. It is the naked truth of humanity and one of our defining characteristics; we need a reason to be here. Sadly, it is when someone either feels they have outgrown their reason or their “reason to be” does not fit the purpose they feel that they were put here for, that drives people into depression, hopelessness, or worse.

So many times, I have sat the train here in the Boston area and I could not help but look around at all my fellow Bostonians, making their way here and there. Some of them have a light in their eye and a clear reason for their daily grind. A man reading the Wall Street Journal preparing for his day at his investment company, a woman working on her presentation that she needs to give later today and a slew of people trying to find a way to relax – reading a book, a newspaper, or playing a game on their phone, iPad or kindle.

Once in a while you see someone with that empty look, the look of someone who has reached the end of what they feel is their purpose, especially in much of the elderly. Or walking along the street, you see a man or woman huddled up in one of those recycled blankets along the side of a building with a used coffee cup sitting in front of them. The look of hope gone, no longer even living, simply – existing, consuming air, water, and sometimes food. I look at them and I want to comfort them, give them a purpose and a reason to keep going. Unfortunately, it is something that cannot easily be done.

A Purpose for our older family members and friends

In many cultures the older family members are still a strong part of home life, however – here in America, when it comes to our older adults I think we are missing a critical piece of our societal puzzle. So many older adults are dismissed, thrown into a home, or ignored.  Historically, the older adults always lived in the family home and took care of the kids while the middle-aged children worked. They told stories and passed on the history of the family. With the division of families and people being spread over great distances it has made it much harder for them to offer their traditional contribution. What some people might not consider though is that the internet provides a means for the elderly to maintain this glue, they just need to be taught how to do so. How to do something as simple as writing an email or passing on pictures.

Connecting in COVID times

Take this a step further and we can see how easy it is to dismiss one another or feel even more disconnected in a time when most of us are required to stay at home, social distance, or telework. Don’t forget that our aging family members are all still out there, desperately wanting to connect with us and often living by themselves or with no other companionship than their pet. It is critical, now more than ever before to connect – Zoom, call, and visit safely when possible. Some day, you will be the one sitting around, hoping that someone comes and spends time with you. You’ll have stories to tell and life experiences to dispense and you will be yearning for someone, anyone, to just listen to you and spend time with you.

Show those in your life how much they count and reach out to those that might not have anyone else in their lives. Because they may be going through something and need you and you won’t even know until it’s too late unless you talk to them now.

a-thirst-quenched-jason-stadtlander
  • Jason Stadtlander

A Thirst Quenched
A Thirst Quenched 2560 1678 Jason Stadtlander

The thirst, the endless, desiccated thirst
The pain of the heart, arid and unquenched, not beating
Void of that camaraderie that it requires
The loneliness that fills the void is like air within a canyon
It is space filled but without substance
The depth of isolation that can be reached by no other means than seclusion
No emotions for oneself and empty within
It is not depression as much as a missing piece of an incomplete puzzle

Then there falls that first drop of rain
That sight of her beauty
Eyes that stare back with an impossible warmth
A connection
Another drop
A link
Another drop, another drop
The contours of the puzzle piece perfectly shaped
Another drop, another drop, another drop
Each, space, each thought, ideal

Now a trickle, it gently flows, slowly to every dry tributary
Drop after drop after drop
A trickle becomes a stream
The intellect, the conversation, the humor
A stream gains momentum as it flows gently from one branch to another
The hands, delicate hands, the touch
A stream becomes a shallow river feeding point after point
A beat
A small devil smiling at me.

The lips, those precious lips, delicate and smooth
Another beat
The voice, soft, accented, beautiful
Another beat, Another beat
The flow becomes stronger a gush as the river flows faster
Beat, Beat, Beat, Beat
Her thoughts fascinate me, Her movements mesmerize me

I am alive
  • Jason Stadtlander

Final Moments – Step Back
Final Moments – Step Back 620 310 Jason Stadtlander

Michael lay with his head on the soft, down pillow as he watched his wife’s chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of her bosom under the old, cotton nightgown. This ancient familiar warmth had given him the strength to start his day for the last sixty-six years. His eyes moved down toward her legs, which were covered under the white knitted blanket. Her old hands with skin now so thin that the form of every vein, ligament, and bone shown through them as they lay upon the cover. He could hear birds outside the open window but did not want to look toward it, did not want to take his eyes from the view before him. Slowly, he turned his head upward and looked at her face, asleep, so peaceful.

Her white hair flowed down and around the edges of her face, framing it in ethereal beauty. Her flawless skin made her appear twenty years younger, despite the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth. When she smiled, the lines disappeared, and the room was filled with light.
She wasn’t smiling now, just sleeping, softly sleeping.

He thought back to last week as they sat at dinner when she smiled at him before she passed out, and the pain struck him.

Step back, it was her birthday as she blew out the candles with the number “88” on the cake.

Step back, the boat ride on Lake Erie with their grandson and two great-grandchildren. Michael held Beth’s hand and sat as the wind blew their white hair, filled with the smell of the lake.

Step back, their fiftieth anniversary as they sat at the restaurant, surrounded by friends and family. So many people that had touched their lives over the years together, standing tall despite the odds.

Step back, in the shade of the trees, as they walked through the park, pushing their grandson in his stroller, autumn freshly fallen and the leaves blowing in small vortices around them.

Step back, the nightmare he had awoken to, his daughter, Jennie dying in a car accident as she drove along the coast. But it wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. Beth had held him as he cried, and in turn, he had cradled her as she cried, her sobs shaking his shoulder.
Step back, their grandson had come into the world, and Beth sat in the hospital room chair holding the newborn baby boy, his soft, perfect skin, and an entire life before him.

Step back, Jennie was walking down the aisle and Michael, as nervous as the day that he lifted his own bride’s veil years ago – gave Jennie’s hand to her new husband, Robert.

Step back, Jennie introduced Robert to her mother and father on the front porch as Michael stood with his shotgun in hand, always the dramatic flair. Robert had taken one look at the gun and stepped back. Beth then grabbed the gun from Michael and pumped the gun, opening the chamber and showing it was not loaded but merely a scare tactic.

Step back, Jennie handed a hand-made ornament that she had created for her father in second grade. Her long golden hair cascading down her shoulders as she smiled with great anticipation as he opened the tissue wrapped ornament.

Step back, Beth handed Michael their newborn daughter. He took the swaddled baby and gently cradling it in his arms, feeling alien to the idea of holding a child. “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He had said. “Next to you, of course.” He had quickly added.
Step back, Michael adjusted his bowtie. So nervous, that his hands were shaking. He had been madly in love with Beth since he was 17, and now, here he stood in the room adjacent to the sanctuary, about to take her hand in marriage. “Dear God, please help me to follow your guidance. Help me to protect and love her for the rest of my life.”

At the altar, he had lifted her veil and kissed her. Beth had whispered in his ear, “Will you love me for the rest of my life?” to which he had replied, “For all of your life and a day, my love.”

Back in the present, the warm bedclothes wrapped Michael in a cocoon of warmth, yet a chill ran up his spine. He reached his hand out and touched Beth’s face. She opened her bright blue eyes and looked at him, a flash of sorrow in her eyes as she felt her body failing her. Beth looked into her husband’s eyes, “It’s time.” She said.

Michael nodded and petted her hair. “Shh, I know. It’s okay.” He whispered.

“Will you love me for the rest of my life?” she asked, as she had asked thousands of times over their years together. He shook his head gently as a single tear streamed down his face, and his lips trembled.

“No. I’ll love you for the rest of mine, and a day.” He replied and wrapped his arms around her as she took her last breath.
Michael lay there for an hour, unable to move, just holding Beth in his arms, sobbing.

Living in the Past & Resisting Change
  • Jason Stadtlander

Living in the Past & Resisting Change
Living in the Past & Resisting Change 1920 1080 Jason Stadtlander

I feel stressed and I retract my thoughts to a specific memory in my childhood;

I am seven years old, sitting in my father’s green 1970 Chevy pickup on the grey bench seat, more specifically it’s a grey seat cover that covers the original green seat. The aroma of the hot chocolate I’m holding in my gloved hands is strong. Dad had ordered it for me as I was finishing my breakfast at the Howard Johnson’s restaurant in Wooster we visited on the way to the job site. It was our regular ritual for us, having breakfast at Howard Johnson’s during our weekend drives from our home in Canal Fulton to the farm in Loudonville.

The grey floorboard has some scattered dirt and dust on it and it’s lightly raining outside. The old windshield wipers are slowly swishing back and forth, “I love a rainy night” by Eddie Rabbitt is playing on the AM radio and I can feel the warm heat blowing on my feet. I’m wearing a red hooded high-school sweatshirt with a faded eagle on it that my father used to wear his senior year of high school, jeans and a pair of over-sized work gloves ready to help my dad do some landscaping. I’m waiting on him to come back to the truck as he’s talking to the customer. I get bored and lean over to change the dial on the radio, sweeping the little red needle back and forth. I move it down to the 500 kHz range and I hear the dot-dash beeping of Morse code. I have no idea what they are spelling out, but it intrigues me.

My dad then gets into the truck and stops, looks at the radio and then at me. “What is it, dad?” I ask, referring to the beeping on the radio.

“Aliens,” he replies back matter-of-factly. My eyes grew wide.

“I’m kidding. It’s just someone sending a message by Morse code. Probably a HAM radio operator nearby.”

It’s just a memory, one of many from my childhood that brings me peace. A memory of a simpler time (for me) when money, responsibilities, and life didn’t stress me out. There was no internet, no cell phones and no need for anyone to get anything instantly.

It’s not exactly a news flash that our world feels like it is moving and changing faster than ever in recorded history. The reality is of course that it is changing at pretty much the same speed it has for the last hundred and twenty to hundred and forty years.

A little over a hundred years ago, adults (fifty and over) at the time were grappling to understand why on earth anyone would want to get from place to place so fast using a mechanical vehicle when for thousands of years horses and carriages had served just fine. Seventy years ago adults in the same age bracket were resisting the change of getting a television when a radio worked just fine for the family.

Today it befuddles many adults why technology is changing so often and why they are constantly being forced to learn the new innovative technologies. Many of the changes are beneficial, making life easier. Although the constant need to adapt to newer hardware or applications roughly every five years may not be difficult for someone in their twenties and thirties, by the time a person reaches their fifties and beyond, the ability to learn these new innovations becomes profoundly difficult.

It’s only natural to want to return to the simplicity of your youth and fifty years from now, no doubt our children will want to return to the simplicity of a hand-held mobile phone and being able to text one another to keep in touch.

It is this stress of needing to constantly change that forces many of us to reminisce about those times that were perceptively easier in our own lives. But is it healthy to do so? Retreating to those memories is a stress reliever for most people, including myself. There is, however, a difference between thinking about the past and living in it. The past is familiar, we know what happened and we know what the outcomes are of how the past played out. However, pick a memory, at that exact moment in the past your life was changing. You didn’t know what to expect or where your world would go. It stands to reason that at that moment – you thought about your past beyond then to cope with stress.

We as a civilization move on. The world moves forward and we have no choice but to move along with the flow. We may be able to divert the waters of change here and there, but ultimately there is nothing we can do to stop the fact that it changes. We will never “make things great again” and most likely things were not as ‘great’ as we remember them. The truth is, fifty years from now you will look back and remember how great things were in this time. So, as I continue to tell myself every day – enjoy your memories and hold on to them, but embrace the change of the future and work to make a difference in controlling how that change plays out.

Father and Son
  • Jason Stadtlander

PFP (Sonnet) The Benevolent Son
PFP (Sonnet) The Benevolent Son 1024 681 Jason Stadtlander

“The Benevolent Son”

Tho new upon this world you came in love
You showed me that the white clouds were parted
As new breath came in your lungs it started
If touched by you, a person holds the dove

You show us truth and ways to see above
Kindly, your conduct incites bighearted
Showing those around you, love restarted
Bereft of anger, your soft words speak of

As a youth, you guided with your actions
Showing me how to give to those in need
Stating “Daddy, give her a dollar please?”
I was surprised by your benefactions 
Proud to call you my son, through each good deed
United, father and son, friends in ease

About This Poetry Form

Name: Sonnet (Italian)
Description: A Sonnet is a poem of an expressive thought or idea made up of 14 lines, each being 10 syllables long. Its rhymes are arranged according to one of the schemes – Italian, where eight lines called an octave consisting of two quatrains which normally open the poem as the question are followed by six lines called a “sestet” that are the answer, or the more common English which is three quatrains followed by a rhyming couplet.

This particular poem is about my youngest son and is an Italian Sonnet which follows the form abbaabbacdecde (each letter representing a line). Each of the corresponding lines will rhyme with the last word with each line being 10 syllables long.

About This Series

Read more about this series here.
  • Jason Stadtlander

A Letter to Me
A Letter to Me Jason Stadtlander

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(Read by the Author)

Brad Paisley sings a song “A Letter to Me”:

If I could write a letter to me… and send it back in time to myself at seventeen

 

So I decided, it’d be interesting to write a letter to myself at eleven.

 

Dear Jason,

First let me prove to you that this is really me.

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Jason at 10

Fishing with my father

Remember that hollow hickory tree on the Christmas tree farm you grew up on? Well, there was all that moss around it and you used to sit there and play on the soft moss with your sister, and what did you call this ‘secret hiding place’? It was called “Bee’s Place” because of all the honey bees that you and she used to see in the daises that clung to the edge of the bank.

Laying under the tailgate with your black lab on the burlap at the top of the hill, you used to watch the clouds float by while dad pruned the trees. You laid there one day and thought to yourself how old you will be when the year 2000 rolled around. A whopping 26 years old and you thought to yourself, will you live that long. I can assure you, that you do.

Now, if I could offer you some advice. You don’t try hard at all in school and I know that you don’t like the way you look or the fact that you move schools so often you never have time to make close friends. But someday, you’ll appreciate all of the exposure you’ve had to different towns and people. You are very intelligent and in college those D’s and F’s became A’s and B’s. So you have it in you now to make it easier on you in the future. School can be your outlet rather than your prison.

Stay away from Anne. The path she leads you down is not a path you want, it can affect the rest of your life and haunt you in ways you can’t yet imagine. Don’t even talk to her or play with her or her sisters.

Stick with your sister and brother, they’ll be your greatest assets in the next few years.

Tell Grandma how much you love her and hug her every day, because she won’t be around much longer. Tell her that you end up having two incredible boys and she would be so proud of them.

 

You’re going to do some monumentally stupid things, especially when you’re in your late teens and early twenties. But trust that the things you do are merely learning lessons and not the end of your life… even if you feel like they are the end of your life in the process.

The places you go and people you meet along the way will mold you into the man you’ll become. But it’s a man that will have people around him that love him tremendously. The most amazing person you’ll ever know has lived near you almost all your life and you won’t even know it until your darkest times are upon you.

When Grandma dies, you will think that God has left you and you will be extremely angry at him. And when your parents split up and you are taken from Ohio, you’ll gain even more resentment against him. But know that he will guide you in ways that you can’t even imagine and when your son is born, a warmth and light will illuminate you in ways you never dreamed possible. Listen to that light and follow the warmth, don’t run from it as I did. Just look at that baby’s face and trust. Trust.

Hold on to these precious moments you have in your life right now and appreciate your childhood. Because someday you will go back to those days for comfort. When all else seems dark and alone and you feel like no one understands you… think about the evening that you sat at the kitchen table in Grandma’s house in the dark with only the light above the table with your head upon her lap. Listening to the silence and the two voices that broke that silence, her’s and Dad’s. Not talking about anything important… just talking and living as grandma petted your hair.

You don’t know her yet, but learn to appreciate Doris. She and Grandpa will make a profound difference in your life if you let them.

Be good to others, but don’t ever let anyone take advantage of you – and believe me, they will try. Most importantly, give love to those that love you back and help those who help you back. And don’t let everything and everyone else bother you. It’s not worth it.

~ Me

P.S. As soon as you hear the name Google – find a way to buy some stock immediately. It doesn’t matter how you do it, just do it.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]

  • Jason Stadtlander

The Power of Friendship
The Power of Friendship 150 150 Jason Stadtlander

This week I’m going to create a series called “The Power of Humanity“. I will choose a few topics to focus on and expand upon them. The first of which, is friendship.

I have been struggling with the concept of friendship the past few months. Trying to understand the boundaries, the necessity and the impact that friends can have on our lives. I would be lying if I said that friendship is no longer an enigma to me, but I also feel as though I have a bit more of an understanding.

I have good friends, bad friends and everything in between. What I have found is, that friendship itself is both selfless and selfish. Before you go off stating that I am just talking about a bunch of canceling out jibberish, here me out.

One of my best friends recently told me when I was discussing the concept of friendship that: “You meet people for a reason, a season or a lifetime.”

The Power of FriendshipThis sounded trite to me at first, but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense.

Friendship is a give and take. We need our friends at times and our friends need us at other times. Sometimes the “take” is much more than the “give”, which depending on the giver, they can either handle being a support structure, or they cannot. I will admit that given my life the last two years, I’ve done much more taking than giving (and to my dearest friends I apologize profusely). However, I think they know that I will be happy to reciprocate that in turn.

Best friends, Close friends and Acquaintances

I can divide my friends into three categories and then I divide acquaintances into three subcategories:

1. Best friends
2. Close friends
3. Acquaintances
a. Those that I need to associate with for networking reasons
b. Those that I don’t like, but need to keep an eye on (they say keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer)
c. Those that I care about, but don’t know well

Aside from the obvious (family), there are nine people in this world that I would lay down my life for. Two of which I almost never speak with anymore for one reason or another, but I still hold them very strong as a friend and though they might not know it, I’d do anything for them.

There are is a large group of people that I would help out if they were in need and reached out to me. These are people that I consider close friends but perhaps not my best friends. Then there are acquaintances that I am associated with, respect and consider them good people. However, these people have either not had enough contact with me or have not attempted to communicate with me enough to gain the respect that a close friend deserves.

Why have friends?

A simple, but extremely complicated question.
1. They understand how you think. True friends, know how you tick psychologically. They can temper you and can help you make a decision that your own perspective prevents you from seeing.
2. Friends lift you up. In a time of need, friends know what makes you happy, they know how to help change your mood. (Consequently, if friends become enemies, they also know your weaknesses.)
3. Life long friends shape your life. Friends that you have had for most of your life, shape your interests, your social interactions and teach you about important life skills.
4. Friends can help you define your priorities. The old saying “birds of a feather flock together” is true. You will tend to attract to people similar to you. Your friends can help you protect yourself because they also fall into the same traps you do.
5. They prevent loneliness. Loneliness can be painful, we are social creatures.
6. They support you through thick and thin. As time goes on, we are always pruning our friendship tree here and there. It’s the branches that are there through all the pruning that are your strongest friends. They will be there for you no matter what you do or what happens.

The reality is, we need friendship. Even those that claim they don’t need it – yep… they need it. They are just too stubborn to admit it.

Friends play a key role in our ability to be individuals, a community and a society as a whole. If you have friends, cultivate the ones that cultivate you and remember, they say to ‘Do unto others as you’d have done to yourself’. That does not mean you should be doing harm to those that have done it to you… your job is not to pay people back for the wrong doings they do. That is up to God. But if you have a friend who is there for you, through thick and thin, be there for them through their hardest times and they will carry you through their (and your) happy times as well.

What do your friends mean to you?

  • Jason Stadtlander

Blood and Water
Blood and Water 150 150 Jason Stadtlander

The blood pumps in your veins
And keeps you alive;
From the family you came
It’s all that survives.

What now of that blood
And how it connects you;
It can bury you in mud
Or it can make you blue.

The wrath of the kin
Clouds the sky with stark grey;
Drives a spike through the sin
Keeps the angels away.

That blood also flows
Through your body and mind;
In all that it shows
Alone it is blind.

How then can you choose
What path you must take;
Tolling on kin to amuse
Or in solitary wake.

To stand proud and be kind
Regardless of blood;
The water will then unwind
For it too is a flood.

Water is not as thick as blood
For blood will endure;
If you allow it to bud
Only then is it pure.

Water crests in a wave
But then it is gone;
Leading only to save
What once was in sun.

The life giving liquid
Leads toward your future;
It need not be frigid
Or twist you with torture.

Do not let your blood haunt you
Or betray you it will;
Follow your heart true
And your life it will fill.

  • Jason Stadtlander

Frankly Friday: Chasing Faith
Frankly Friday: Chasing Faith 150 150 Jason Stadtlander

Questioning FaithI have always considered myself a Christian. I was born into a Methodist home, raised in a Methodist church and I attended Sunday school as a child. I can remember the pride that I had on becoming an acolyte as a young boy and getting a children’s bible.

Although we changed churches quite a bit throughout my childhood due to moving, I still felt a connection to the community of church whenever we would return. All that changed when my grandmother died.

I was fourteen years old and I remember being furious at God. Angry that the one woman who I felt always was my rock and guiding light would be swept out of my life. It was during her battle with breast cancer that that my mother and father divorced and any remaining faith I had went down the proverbial toilet. Now, I’m not saying that I became agnostic (those who question the belief in a higher deity) or atheist (those who don’t believe in God at all)… What I am saying is that I failed to care whether there was a God, whether God was real or whether anything else was. I was angry, I was numb to everything and I felt alone.

Fast forward almost twenty years to the birth of my first child.

My beliefs again were put through the wringer. For the first time since my grandmother had died, I was certain without a doubt that there was a God. I could not see anyway that such a precious life could be created. So complex, so incredibly and so beautiful without some higher power orchestrating things on a level that we still can’t perceive. I’m not saying I came full circle, my doubts are still very strong in many areas. However, believing that there is in fact a God (in whatever form he/she or it may be) for me is most definitely there.

This whole realization pushed me to analyze my faith and the very concept of faith, God and in some cases religion. The more I wrote, the more I discovered that there were underlying tones of faith within my stories / books (like The Lantern). People ask me all the time if I intentionally write those into the stories. The reality is, I don’t intentionally write anything. I don’t write an outline, I don’t know how a story is going to end. I simply sit down and start writing. Yes, I have a concept at times or an idea that I want to move with, but it’s never as rigid as a planned out piece. It’s my heart flowing out of my fingers and onto paper. Most of the time, I’m as surprised as everyone else where things go within the stories.

Now I face another life changing situation. One that I am uncertain of whether it’s questioning my faith, encouraging it or negating it. Only time will tell.

That being said, my whole of experiences with having children, dealing with life issues and now with writing has caused me to analyze time and again my morals, my beliefs and the blurred lines between right and wrong. What is true, and what is not? At the moment, I believe strongly that there is a higher power. The Bible, the Torah, the Qur’an and every other written text out there (as far as I’m concerned) was written by man. Do I believe that there might have been some divine influence in such writings, or that they may have been written by those strong in faith? Yes, absolutely. However, they are humanity’s interpretation of something that they do not understand; what lies before our existence and what lies after it.

What do you believe or feel? There is no right or wrong, there is only opinions and there is nothing wrong with having an opinion.

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