writing

Commitment to Yourself

This will be a fairly brief post. The mission of a Work in Progress (A-WIP) is to better ones self. I have, in previous posts, outlined what this means to me. Through photography, philosophy, and creative writing I find the best way to live for me. I share this better self of me on this blog as an example of taking control of my life. Now this this idea of being better is different for everyone. Here at A-WIP we want everyone to reach that ideal self, and we believe the only way to do this is to make a commitment to yourself.

I want say this as gentle as I can, but this commitment cannot have excuses. I know that many people suffer from issues be that of mental, or physical and my goal isn’t to mitigate those issues. However, saying I cannot because of _____ just tells me that you have a crutch that you cannot let go of yet. To make a commitment to oneself is to know that these issues may affect us, but should not control us. There is the difference.

To make a commitment to yourself first find out what it is you want out of life. For me it is to live an accepting Christian lifestyle, this could be different for you, but what does life look like to you in the future? Who do you see yourself being?

Know what challenges are ahead for the choices that you make and create a plan for overcoming those challenges. If you aren’t sure what challenges await then at least create good coping skills for when issues arise.

Finally when you create this commitment let us know, and let us know your progress. If anything we want to be supportive of you in your journey along with us in becoming our best selves.

The Death of Man

I recently had the opportunity to attend a men’s retreat with my brother. This was something new for me to do in a Church as I have never really saw myself as one of the men. As the youngest of three, and all of my siblings much older than me I never believed that I would reach the point of being a “man”, but there I was with all the other men at this retreat. I had mixed feelings about it from the get go. I thought I was walking into this assembly where we would eat streak from a freshly killed deer carcass while discussing the finer points of how to spit a long distance. It was, however, much to my surprise a good lesson for me to learn from. It’s good lesson for anyone to learn from.

We started off in Genius 2:15 where God commanded Adam to not eat from the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil. Adam received this knowledge before Eve came into existence. Eve was then later temped by the serpent, and ate from the tree then gave some to Adam. Adam who stood there, and said nothing to Eve. Adam who did not attempt to stop Eve. Adam who was silent as Eve sinned, even though he knew that if they ate from the tree they would surely die.

The silence of man in this story is deafening. At the men’s retreat the speaker encouraged us to open up about what we were struggling with as men. To discuss with each other the problems in our lives. In my group of eight we had three people open up. My brother and I being two.

It was discouraging to open up about the hardest part of my life currently to these men who continued to stay silent rather than opening up about their lives. Men will die of silence. The second I told my story I regretted it. It felt like I made a fool of myself, and the only thing I could hear in the back of my head was, “Should have just shut up.”

It’s like that being a man. I watch my father do it, killing himself with silence. Ever so often I get these glimpses into his life. Brief ten second window’s into what he really feels, and what he went through. These ten second images have become engraved in my mind because the pain that he feels. These ten second windows are hell. He keeps them bottled up inside, and drinks them down. Every so often he recounts one, and it turns my stomach knowing that my father has gone through so much. I only want to reach out and hug him. Tell him I love him, that its ok, that its all behind him now, that I can be strong for him. Instead, I tell myself it’s not my place, that if it gets really bad I’ll tell him to stop. I’m just silent.

What can I do? What could I say? I’m struggling and need help! Help me please!

Its been hard absorbing all this information, and trying to implement it in my life. I bottle things up, and I stay silent.

So, I want to make a change. I will start small with my wife. I will tell her things, and be open. Then work outwards. I’ll let you know how it goes.

Davids Haunted House Pt. 3

“So, how did you die?” I asked the very real ghost in front of me. Following the really fresh blood trail of whatever the hell was dragging Sydney around the house.

“You know how you eat something, and it makes you sick?”

“Yeah?” I answered

“Well I was shot in the face for making something that got people sick.”

“What were you making?”

“Human flesh for a bunch of cannibals.”

“Is that real or….”

“We’re here!” She flew her arms up in the air.

A rising panic built up inside of me as I just realized we weren’t following the blood away from this thing, but toward it. Before us was a torn up door complete with scratches, dents, and blood of the obvious victims unlucky enough to be found by this creepy bastered. The trail of blood continued under the door.

I felt the hair on my back rise as I became very aware of my mortality for the third time today, “I thought you were getting me out of here?”

“Yeah, but I need to figure out what’s going on here. Then we will get you out of here.”

“How do you not know what’s going on? Didn’t you like die here?”

A loud distinctive thud came from the other side of the door followed by a loud scream. We both turned our attention to what is on the other side.

“Wait here.” Temperance said handing me a remote, “If I am not back in 10 hit this button, and run as far away as you can.”

An order I was more than happy to comply with. Temperance walked through the door as I waited on the other side ready to hit the button.

 

 

Glitter Bunny Killer Pt. 2

I dozed off, not sure for how long. There was barely light in the sky when I fell asleep, but not completely black outside like it was now. It was restless sleep as I kept watching Angel again and again. Every time I would reach out to do something, anything to help her, but each time never being able to stop it. She just kept staring back at me blood running down her throat her eyes in horror. There was always something there just out of the corner of my eye watching me each time. I couldn’t completely focus in on it, I didn’t want to. As the events reshaped in my head again I forced myself to look. A vivid scream filled the air. I jumped out of bed, but wasn’t sure if it was real or not. I was paralyzed by the fear again, that mask what was that?

Footsteps came toward my door, as well as hushed argument just outside. It was almost comical how they thought they were being quiet enough that I couldn’t hear them. Kelly was a thick as they come. They continued to struggle with the lock as I took time to wake up feeling disoriented. The mask staring back at me, watching me now.

The door flew open Kelly quickly filling the gap coming right toward me, “You!”

“Me.” I replied.

Her boyfriend was trying to stop her advance, but a slap across the face quickly reminded him of his place to her. Kelly stopped at the foot of the bed. I made it a point not to get up or look intimidated. I wanted her to know that I didn’t care who she thought she was. It just made her angrier.

“How did you get out?”

“I obviously didn’t”

Kelly’s face turned a bright red glowing with anger and fury. It was the face I had gotten used to with her. We may have similar friends, but we never really got along. She had this constant air about her that she was the most important person the room, and I made sure she know how little I cared. Its almost came to blows before, but most of the time her boyfriend keeps her calm, maybe today was finally it. Maybe we would finally see who would shut up forever.

She pointed at me and was about to say something, but instead chose to walk off. Her lackey following closely behind like the whipped pup he was.

She left the door open, perhaps as a way of saying I was no longer a suspect. Even she couldn’t deny I was right here the whole time, she just couldn’t say it to my face. I walked out shortly after timing myself ensuring she knows it was my choice, not hers, to leave.

The hall seemed colder, but I was just under a large lump of wonderful blankets and pillows. I could hear Becky sobbing and I remembered How did you get out. Something happened, again. I followed the sobs to one of the bathrooms.

I grew up on a ranch. One particular night we went into town for a movie, a family outing. When we came back the entire heard of cows were together in one area, and the smell of blood filled the air. That sticky iron smell. My father took me out into the field. It didn’t take long to find the source. Wolves had come in tearing apart several of our stock. They didn’t even eat them they just tortured them until they had run out of fun. I would rather see that sight everyday for the rest of my life then what was before me in that bathroom. The blood pooled, the walls red, skin flayed, the suffering unimaginable.

That night when the cows died we made sure there was never another attack again. I could smell the smoke now. Wyoming girls don’t cry.

Essentials to Bullet Journaling

Bullet journaling is the cool new craze that has everyone (mostly us) excited about getting organized. The styling and openness of the journal allows for the creator to create beautiful self-made trackers, calendars, and anything else that can be done with paper all in one convenient dotted journal. With so many possibilities it can be difficult, and unnerving to get started.

Well at A Work in Progress Pandora, and I made the mistakes for you and came up with the Essentials to Bullet Journaling. So please sit back and see what we did good, and what went horribly wrong.

  • Step 1 buy the Journal, any journal, so long as its full of dots. Look at that journal so full of dots. Lets just take a moment to appreciate how organized we are getting…… Wow such potential, I really feel like this is going to be a grand adventure.

 

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  • Step 2 get supplies. Talk’n like some Sharpies, and non-smearing non-bleeding non-shit markers, all the pencils (ALL the Pencils), stencils to make it look like you know what your doing, some rulers to make it look like you a can draw straight lines, and bring the pain of knowing that your journal will never be as cool as the ones on Pinterest.

 

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  • Step 3 fight with your significant other if your doing the journal together. Mostly because you know that you called the ruler first, and you cooked dinner but apparently that doesn’t matter because she has a really cute idea for her journal. If your alone continue to self-loath from previous step.

 

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  • Step 4 don’t make a water tracker. Everyone makes a water tracker, do something different like a poop tracker. At least that is different.

 

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  • Step 5 don’t listen to what people tell you to put in your journal especially your significant other especially about that whole UsE GeL PeNs iT LOoKS BeTTer. NO IT DOESN’T.

 

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  • Step 6 screw up multiple times, and feel helpless.

 

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  • Step 7 embrace the mistakes.

 

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  • Step 8 wonder if embracing the mistakes leads to bad habits.

 

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  • Step 9 screw it, make a water tracker. Almost had you.

 

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  • Step 10 make a huge mess and stress about cleaning it up. Ugh I knew I shouldn’t have gotten so many pencils.

 

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  • Step 11 have fun and enjoy the experience, and look at the cool stuff that comes from making a bullet journal

 

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