if i had to give one answer for what i want to be, this would be the answer. not famous, not rich, not important and not powerful but great. i had thought i would achieve greatness through medicine; i am beginning to wonder if that is what God ever had planned for me. but the loss of this large part of my life does not mean the end of my shot at greatness. after all, i still have my writing. i still have my family. i still have the ability to influence the world around me in such a way that changes it forever. the Watts Towers were built by a man who was nobody. he left his wife and kids to come to California and worked as a manual laborer. he spent decades in the evening building spires out of trash and broken bits; towers that reach high above anything around them. he died all alone, away from his towers with no one to leave them to. that man was great in his vision and execution of his desires. but he was not a great man, for great men do not leave their families and then die alone. great men weather storms and carry on all while still building a monumental achievement in history. i desperately pray to be given my chance to be great through medicine; but if my chance never comes, i’ll still work to be called a great husband, a great father, a great friend and a great man.
and it is in the spirit of my attempt at greatness that i say thank you to all of my new subscribers. you keep me going, you keep me writing; every time i start to wonder if what i do has any impact on the world one of you invariably subscribe or like one of my posts. thank you for your vote of approval; thank you for taking me one step closer to the title of great.
growing up is quite the challenge. i mean, you hardly notice yourself getting taller, voice getting deeper or features coarsening. sure, you see the pimples, yeah, your notice the stretch marks; but it’s not ‘til you wake up one morning to the sound of hungry children and a sink of dirty dishes when you realize that somehow, somewhere, some-kind-of-way you’re stuck in the body of a man, with the responsibilities of a man, but the desires and dreams of a boy-child.
men have always faced this dilemma; and as many men are on the planet are the number of ways it’s dealt with. it just so happens that mine is through the aggravation and manifestation of my depression. but this only compounds my problems. the only reason i even realize that i am (and shbooulduld act like, for that matter) a man is because of my wife and children; but at the same te it is my responsibilities to them that trouble me. I respond to extreme emotional situations with a depressed mood, loss of energy, and general disengagement from life; this inevitably leads to me hurting my family, and causing them pain only adds to my list of grievances against myself.
so i find myself in the middle of a web of life, strung with the responsibilities of adulthood. and manhood, trellised with the regrets which litter my life, moistened with the tacky paste of my depression. as i look out on my kingdom i see a queen whose face is possessed with grief and concern, i see children whose aura radiate with joy and potential, and i see a realm whose resources lie rotting, abandoned by their lord who is too entangled to adequately rule.
but how is a man supposed to “govern” in this modern age? how can i be masculine enough to be in charge while being sensitive enough to write my wife love letters? how can i dream big enough to shoot for he stars while practical enough to toil in the trenches? how can i be resourceful enough to use my skills to their utmost while reserving time and energy for my children? how can i hold onto the wonderment of youth while grasping the concerns of a man?
i’ve no answers now, as i’m still in the midst of my web. what i know is this: a man is a terrible thing to waste. when a man is wasted his woman suffers. when a man is wasted his children’s potential withers before it gets a chance to blossom. when a man is wasted the kingdom that could’ve been decays into a slum that shames us all. i will not be wasted. though i fall on my face as i struggle to rip free, i will not be wasted. though i bruise and bleed with every failed attempt, i will not be wasted. i may not ever achieve greatness, but i’ll be damned if i allow myself to let down my queen. i will use my dreams as a youth and perspective as a man to create a vision for my world. i will use my talents as a boy and soils as a man to forge the weapons i need to conquer my domain. i will use the hopeful eyes of a child to focus on the goals of a man and acquire the title of honorable. a Kamarr is a teronle thing to waste. i will not be wasted.